So, So in Love with You
by FiveFootTwo
Summary: A companion piece to Numbers. A series of one-shots giving a more in-depth look at Beca and Jesse's relationship, in non-chronological order. Chapter 21 now up!
1. Paper Planes

It was late one evening when she finally sits down on the sofa to watch television. It had been a long day of working, then coming home to the two kids, then getting them fed, bathed, and off to bed, and then cleaning up dinner and packing lunches for the following day.

Yes, life as a full time working mother was difficult, but he was a wonderful father and a huge help to her every day, though tonight he was nowhere to be found. She hears the distant sound of drawers opening and closing, doors squeaking, and feet shuffling around the house.

"Jesse?" she calls quietly, not wanting to wake the kids.

He stomps into the room, a sour expression on his face. "Have you seen my collector's edition Iron Man DVD where the case looks like Iron Man's helmet?"

"Um, no," she smiles at him, trying not to laugh, "If I had I probably would have mocked you for owning it."

"I get that it's not important to you, but it's important to me. Have you seen it?" he repeats.

"No," she answers, looking amidst the shelves in their family room to see if it ended up there. "Maybe the kids got a hold of it. Where did you see it last?"

"If I knew that, I wouldn't be looking for it," he says sarcastically.

"Ok, sorry," she frowns, noting his foul mood, "If you can't find it, we can always replace it."

"No, we can't," he's pacing around the room. "You don't understand!" he snaps. "It's irreplaceable to me!"

"Why, because it's a collector's edition? We can look on eBay for another—"

He shakes his head, "You don't remember, do you? We bought it together in college. It was the first DVD I bought after I met you. We were in Target and you mocked it and called me a dork because I thought it was awesome. So it's not just some dumb DVD to me, Beca. I know you're not a sentimental person, but I am!"

She stomps out of the room and up the stairs to their bedroom, flinging open her closet door. She rummages around for a moment before unearthing a rather large box that has been decorated with various doodles, music related stickers, and handwritten quotes. She lifts it, carrying it back downstairs and drops it on the floor with a resounding thunk.

"How dare you say I'm not sentimental?" She tears the lid off the box, which is practically overflowing with stuff.

And one by one, she removes each item, spreading them on the sofa, the coffee table, and any bare surface she can find.

She holds up the first item, "The paper airplane you made for me on our first date. The first letter you ever wrote me the summer after freshman year. The program from the first ICCA finals where we kissed. The photo that Amy took of us kissing that night. A flash drive with the first mix I ever let you listen to copied on it. A dried rose from the night you proposed. Receipts which show the date and time I bought the pregnancy tests that showed that we were going to have Melody and Aria. A copy of our wedding invitation. The ticket you used to fly to L.A. after you decided to leave New York to be with me. The black lace top you ripped from me that night you gave me the best orgasm of my life, at least at that point anyway. The ticket stubs from the first movie we saw in the theater together. The lists we made when we were trying to name the kids. The boutonniere you wore on the day of our wedding. A printout of the first email you ever sent me. The pair of underwear that I was wearing the first night we made love, cleaned of course. My wedding veil. The tiny black bikini that you loved so much that I can no longer fit into. The sling you made for me when I injured my shoulder sophomore year. A million pictures of us. The tie you were wearing the night we first kissed. And—"

She stops abruptly in her rant, and looks up at him. He is slack-jawed, his eyes wide in surprise as she tilts the box toward him so that he can see what's in the bottom.

"The first DVD we ever bought together," she finishes as she lifts out the collector's edition Iron Man DVD that he'd been looking for and places it in his hands.

A silence fills the room as he stares at the DVD case, turning it over in his hands carefully. He looks up at her.

"You know I really loved that tie. I looked for it all over," he says quietly, his eyes sparkling. "I had no idea you kept all this, Beca. I'm so sorry, I'm an idiot."

"Yes, you are," she frowns at him, her arms crossed over her chest.

He gets up from the sofa, moving to stand beside her, "So I gave you the best orgasm of your life, huh?"

"You've given me all my orgasms," she clarifies, her eyes narrowing at him.

"Touché," he replies, brushing her hair from her face.

She still won't look at him, so he moves his fingers to begin undoing the tiny buttons on her shirt. "That lacy top was sexy as hell," he says softly, his lips just brushing the shell of her ear. "It's a shame it got ruined."

"By you," she says, but the edge is leaving her voice.

He removes her shirt, leaving her standing there in her bra and jeans. He picks up the black lace top and slowly pulls it over her head. It's torn up the side pretty badly and has small rips in other places too, but he manages to put it on her. Her skin is exposed, and he can see her bra through the top as he kneels before her, pressing feather light kisses everywhere he sees skin.

She sighs, her hands moving to his hair. "Jesse," she whispers.

"Mmm?" he says, kissing the line of skin where the top fails to meet the waistband of her jeans.

"I'm still mad at you," she tells him.

"I know," he stands, picking her up in one fluid motion before carrying her to the steps. "What can I do to make it up to you?" he asks, kissing her neck.

"You can clean up all my things before the kids destroy them tomorrow," she says, closing her eyes as his lips move to the sensitive spot just below her ear.

"Mmhmm," he murmurs into her skin as he lays her on the bed.

"And you can make me breakfast in bed," she continues.

"Mmkay," he breathes into the space between her breasts.

"And I guess," she sighs, arching her back to give him better access, "You can _try_ to give me the best orgasm of my life."

"I accept the challenge, Mrs. Swanson," he smiles, covering her body with his own.

And he does.


	2. Reunion

"Bec?" he asks in the darkness of their small bedroom in their first apartment in Los Angeles.

"Yeah?" she mumbles sleepily.

"My five year high school reunion is coming up next month, and it would really mean a lot to me if you'd go with me," he says.

"You graduated six years ago," she points out.

"Yeah I know, but the committee took forever to plan the reunion," he explains.

"Then it should be called a six year reunion," she argues.

He sighs, exasperated, "Yes, it should. But it isn't."

She exhales against her pillow, "Will Jason, Tom, and Mike be there at least?" They were the friends of his from home that she'd already met and liked.

"Yeah," he replies, "I just thought it could be fun. Plus, I want to show off my gorgeous fiancé."

"And who might that be?" she teases, and he lightly tickles her stomach. "Ok," she agrees finally, "Do I need to dress up?"

"It's a formal dinner, yes," he says, "I'm going to wear a suit and tie."

She groans into the mattress, "Alright, but remember I'm only doing this because I love you."

He grins, "Thanks Bec."

As the next few weeks pass, she's swamped at work. Her schedule at the radio station is erratic, as she's one of the newest hires, and her manager has her working odd hours. As the weekend of the reunion approaches, she's becoming increasingly afraid that her work schedule won't allow her to attend.

She ends up rearranging the schedule so that she can still go, but Jesse will have to fly to his hometown first, and then she'll follow him the next day, the day of the reunion. He isn't happy about this, but at least she'll still be able to go.

She goes dress shopping with Chloe, having no idea of what to buy to wear to such an event. She wants to look nice for Jesse and his friends.

On the day of her flight, nothing is going right. The weather in L. A. is awful, and there are a ton of flight delays. By the time she lands, she has just enough time to rent a car and drive to Jesse's house, get ready, and then leave for the reunion already in progress.

Jesse arrives early to the party, and is relieved when she texts him to let him know she's landed. He's having fun catching up with old friends and acquaintances, and is standing in a crowd of his buddies when one of them punches him in the shoulder, exclaiming, "Who is that? I think I would remember her from high school!"

He turns to where his friend is pointing and sees her, wearing a deep green form fitting dress that hugs her curves in all the right places. It reaches mid-calf and has a low cut v-neck and short sleeves. Her hair is in loose ringlets, and gone are all traces of her former alt-girl self. She's wearing very little eye makeup, no earrings except a pair of sparkly hoops, and a y-shaped necklace that trails down into her cleavage. The tattoos on her back and shoulders are covered by the fabric. She's exquisite.

"That," he replies, attempting to clear his throat, "Is my future wife."

"Yeah, mine too," his buddy says, not realizing that Jesse is serious. Jesse turns and walks away from the group to greet her.

"My God, Beca," he says when he gets closer to her, "You're stunning."

"You think?" she replies nervously, smoothing down her skirt. "Chloe picked it out. I wasn't sure about the dress."

"You're always beautiful, but wow," he manages, and she smiles as he leads her over to his friends to introduce her. His buddies are equally shocked as they make their introductions, especially when he calls her his fiancé. When she excuses herself to get a drink, Greg pulls him aside.

"Dude, you didn't tell me girls like that went to Barden. Maybe I would have tried harder in high school so I could have gotten in too. How the hell did you land her?"

"Gee, thanks man," Jesse laughs, "Actually we met interning at the campus radio station after I serenaded her from my parents' car on move in day."

"No way!" Greg laughs, and when Beca returns with her drink, Jesse's already launched into the story of their freshman year together.

"I heard her sing, and I was a goner," he tells Greg, "But it took her a little while longer to fall in love with my dorkiness."

She laughs, "He had juice pouches and Rocky! What girl could resist?" She drapes her arm around his waist as they stand there, talking and laughing with his friends. When a slow song starts playing he turns to her and asks, "Dance with me?"

She nods and he leads her to the dance floor. She wraps her arms around his neck as he places his hands on her hips, and they begin to sway. "Your friends are great," she tells him. "This is nice. I wouldn't be caught dead at my own high school reunion, but this is nice."

"Why not?" he wonders.

"I didn't exactly have what you'd call a normal high school experience. I was a loner. I only had a few acquaintances who were mostly guys. And when I graduated, I didn't keep in touch with anyone from back home. I was glad to be out of there," she explains.

"That's a shame," he says, "Because for me high school was a blast. I made some great friends here. Friends I'll probably have for life."

"You think they like me?" she asks.

"They love you," he responds assuredly, "What's not to love?"

"Chloe said I should dress more conservative, you know, not my usual style. I'm guessing you like it based on your reaction when I showed up here," she leans her head on his shoulder.

"I didn't even recognize you at first," he teases her, but he feels her tense in his arms.

"Oh," she says quietly.

"What's wrong?" his voice is full of concern at her sudden shift in mood.

"It's nothing," she shakes her head.

"Beca," he urges.

"It's just that, the day we met you said something about how I was one of those girls who acts all dark and mysterious, but that if I would just take off my scary ear spike you'd realize I was beautiful all along," she stops to take a breath. "And, I don't know, I kind of thought you were saying I would be beautiful if I didn't have the ear spike. Or maybe my tattoos. Or my dark eye shadow and alternative style."

"Beca," he says softly, but she cuts him off.

"And I just didn't know what your friends were like. Maybe they think tattoos and piercings are weird. I didn't want to embarrass you."

"You could never embarrass me," he tells her, stroking her cheek with his thumb, "You don't need to change a single thing about yourself for me, Beca. I think you're beautiful. I always have. When I said that I was actually flirting with you, poorly, I might add. You could get caught in a monsoon or wear a paper bag and I'd still think you were the most attractive woman I've ever seen in my life."

"You have to say that, because you're stuck with me," she answers.

"I mean it," he says, "And now my friends are all glaring at me with extreme jealousy because I'm here dancing with the hottest girl in the room, and they're all alone."

"Should I ask them to dance with me?" she smiles up at him, "Try and get to know them better?"

"You could try, but I'm not letting go of you tonight, not even for one second. It might be awkward trying to dance to a slow song. With you, me, and Greg," he smirks.

She's laughing now. "Besides," he adds, "One of them might steal you away from me."

"Not a chance," she quips. "I only fall for dorks and weirdos, and they seem way cooler than you."

And since it's the best way to get her to shut up, he kisses her. They forget that they're standing in the middle of a crowded dance floor as his tongue intertwines with hers as he deepens the kiss.

"Yo Swanson!" he hears Greg's voice shout, "Save some of that for later!"

They break apart suddenly, and he leans his forehead against hers as his friends whistle and yell insults from the sidelines.

"Do you think you would have noticed me, if we went to high school together?" she asks him.

"I would have fallen all over myself trying to get your attention," he replies.

"Wait, didn't you do that in college?" she deadpans, and he rolls his eyes at her.

"Totally worth it," he grins, fingering her engagement ring as it sparkles in the dim lighting of the banquet hall.

"So tell me, what kinds of things do normal high school couples do together?" she asks.

"Oh, you know. Catch a movie, get something to eat, go for a walk, make out," he answers.

She gets a wicked gleam in her eye, the one he loves, "Come with me," she says, pulling him by the hand out the door. When they reach the parking lot she says, "Where's your car?" and he points to it, parked a few rows away. He unlocks it as they approach and she opens the backseat door, sliding in and pulling him in next to her by the tie. Before he can ask her what they're doing, she's straddling his lap and kissing him, her tongue tangling with his. Her hands are in his hair, and as the kiss builds in intensity, he stops, breathing hard.

"Bec, if we don't stop soon, I'm not going to be able to," his voice is low and husky.

"Who says I want to stop?" she nibbles the shell of his ear.

"Because," he replies, "We're in my father's car at my high school reunion and someone might see us and—" he stops as she grinds her hips into his. "And shut up Swanson because you're talking instead of ravishing your drop-dead gorgeous fiancé who's incredibly sexy."

"Jesse?" she puts her fingers to his lips, silencing him.

"Stop being such a dork and ravish me already!"

He doesn't need to be told twice.

"Oww, my knee!"

"This car has a low roof you know!"

"Bec, your heel! My dad's going to notice a huge scuff on the back of his seat!"

They're laughing at first at the awkwardness of it all, but soon their laughter fades. This is hot, really hot. Inhibitions vanish, and soon the only things being said are their names, screamed in pleasure. They're both breathing hard when she whispers in his ear, "Now when you think of high school, you'll have a memory of me."

"Beca, every moment with you makes a memory," he says honestly, and she kisses him softly on the lips.

"You're way too sweet to me, you know that?" she says as they dress and head back inside. They look a little bit mussed, but otherwise decent as they rejoin the group on the dance floor.

And when a curvy blonde taps Jesse on the shoulder, he turns to Beca and says, "Beca, this is Lizzie. Lizzie, this is my fiancé Beca."

Beca knows who Lizzie is; she's his high school girlfriend. The one he took to prom and lost his virginity to, and Beca narrows her eyes a bit as the girl asks, "May I cut in?"

Noting Beca's expression Lizzie adds, "Oh, you can dance with my husband, Scott." She gestures over to a gangly looking guy standing awkwardly a few feet away. Beca nods and begrudgingly goes over to dance with Scott.

They make their introductions and are swaying to the music when Scott leans down and whispers, "You know you're really beautiful, I haven't been able to take my eyes off you all night."

"Aren't you married to Lizzie?" she asks, incredulously.

"Married, but not blind," Scott says smiling. "Maybe I could get your number? We could go out for drinks sometime?"

"Gee, Scott," Beca has to try not to laugh at the ridiculousness of this, "I'm flattered, but see that guy over there?" She points at Jesse, "I'm madly in love with him, so I'll have to pass."

"Worth a shot," Scott shrugs, and they are soon rejoined by Jesse and Lizzie. "That's quite a girl you've got there," Scott regards Jesse.

"Thanks man, you too," he says politely as they walk back to their table.

"He totally hit on me," Beca blurts out, "Poor Lizzie!"

"She hit on me, too," Jesse says, laughing.

"No!" they are hysterical.

"Swingers?" they say in unison, and now she's hunched over, her head on his shoulder, his face buried in her hair as they try to catch their breaths.

"Hey, I can't help it if we're the hottest couple here," Jesse says smugly, "And you know what the best part about tonight is?" he adds.

"What?" she's intrigued.

"I get to take you home with me," he grins at her and winks suggestively, and she laughs.

"You're such a nerd," she says, but her eyes are sparkling, "Thanks for tonight," she tells him.

Maybe, she thinks, just maybe, high school isn't that bad after all.


	3. Bedtime Story

It is late one night when he finally arrives home from work. He peeks into Aria's room and finds her fast asleep on her stomach. He sees a sliver of light casting a pale glow in the hallway coming from Melody's room. As he approaches he hears the hushed voices of his wife and daughter.

Beca is just finishing up the last lines of one of Melody's many children's books which talk about how much parents love their children.

"Mommy? Do you love Daddy like you love me?" he hears his six-year-old ask.

"Well, not exactly like you, but yes. I love Daddy very much," Beca answers.

"When I grow up, I want to marry someone just like Daddy," Melody states matter-of-factly.

"I hope you do," Beca whispers softly, tucking a stray hair behind her child's ear.

"Mommy? Will you tell me the story of how you met Daddy again?"

"Sure honey," Beca replies. She looks into the beautiful, brown eyes of her baby, Jesse's eyes, and takes a breath.

"When Mommy and Daddy were in college, Daddy sang to Mommy from the back of Grandpa's car while Grandma and Grandpa were dropping Daddy off on the first day. Mommy thought Daddy was very silly, singing to her like that, but she remembered him when she met him again for real at the radio station where they ended up working together. Daddy kept trying to get Mommy's attention, trying to get her to smile and laugh, and Mommy was being very stubborn."

"Why?" Melody interrupts.

"Because Mommy was afraid. Daddy was special, and so different from Mommy, and she was afraid that if she loved him he would end up breaking her heart."

"But he never did," her daughter interjects, already knowing the story.

"No," Beca continues, "And Daddy kept pushing her to open her heart to him, but she refused, and pushed him away. They didn't talk for a while, and Mommy was very sad. She tried to apologize, but she had hurt Daddy, so instead she decided to sing to him."

"Don't you forget about me," Melody sings, smiling up at her mother.

"Yes, it was her way of telling Daddy she loved him and wasn't afraid anymore. And she was very, very lucky, because he forgave her."

"And you kissed and lived happily ever after!" Melody exclaims, causing her mother to laugh.

"Yes baby," Beca smiles, pressing a kiss to her daughter's forehead, "Now it's time for bed."

"Will you sing to me until I fall asleep?" Melody asks.

"Ok honey," Beca replies, stroking her hair softly. She begins to sing the first few verses of The Beatles' In My Life. Before she is even halfway through the song, she notices her daughter's even breathing, and as she runs her fingers through her auburn hair that looks just like her mother's and her dimpled cheeks that look just like her father's, her heart swells with love for her child.

"I do hope you find someone like your father," she whispers to her sleeping child in the darkness. "Someone who loves you for who you are, unconditionally, without judgment. Someone who brings out the best in you. Someone who pushes you to try harder, to be better, to do more, to love. Someone who makes you feel beautiful just from the way he looks at you. Someone who is honest and true. Someone filled with passion and joy and inspiration for life. Someone who even when you're in an argument, you can't really be mad at him, because you love him with all your heart and he loves you just as fiercely. That's what I hope for you, baby girl." She tucks the sheets around Melody's sleeping form and tiptoes out of the room, cracking the door open behind her.

"I love you too," his voice startles her.

She jumps, clapping her hands over her mouth in an effort to stay quiet. "How long have you been standing there?" she asks when she finally composes herself.

"A while," he admits, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"I'm still mad at you," she informs him as she heads in the direction of their room, just down the hallway.

"No, you're not. You can never really stay mad at me. You love me too much," his smile is smug.

"Shut up," she snaps. "You were wrong, and I _am_ mad."

He starts singing.

_Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry_

_You don't know how lovely you are_

_I had to find you, tell you I need you_

_Tell you I set you apart_

"Jesse," she scowls, "Singing Coldplay isn't going to get you out of this."

"The Scientist is a great song!" he insists.

She turns away from him, sitting at the foot of their bed. "You really hurt me," she whispers, so softly he almost misses it.

"Beca," he sits next to her, trying to take her hand, but she snatches it away. "I know I acted like a jerk. You know how much I love attention, love to perform. I just got caught up in it is all. I'm sorry."

"You humiliated me in front of our friends just for a few laughs," she corrects.

"You're always ribbing me in front of them," he points out.

"But I do not pick on the one thing I know you're sensitive about," she replies. "You know I was miserable and vulnerable when I was pregnant. I did not need to hear at a social gathering with friends, my very own husband pointing out that I walked like a duck, or resembled a beached whale when I was trying to get out of bed."

"I thought you'd think it was funny. You made those jokes yourself, Bec! Lilly's pregnant and uncomfortable and I was just trying to lighten her spirits."

"At my expense! I told you that you get carried away sometimes, and when you get going, you don't always think about how it might make me feel, Jesse."

"You're right, I didn't. I'm sorry. And for the record, I thought you looked gorgeous carrying my babies."

"I know that," she says quietly, "But you didn't convey that to our friends last night."

"Want me to call them all and tell them right now? Mass email? Group text message? Singing telegram at their doorway complete with balloons and confetti?" his eyes are searching her face.

She tries to hold back a smile, "And what would you sing?"

"I'd sing about how gorgeous and sexy my wife is all the time. It would be borderline obnoxious, really. And then they'd slam the door in my face and we'd have no friends left. Is that what you want, Beca?"

"I hate that I can't be mad at you," she shakes her head at him.

He drops to the floor and kneels before her, looking up at her expectantly, "It's because I'm so adorable," he grins before adding, "Oh yeah, and the love part."

"The love part," she sighs, cupping his face in her hands. "Now come here," she orders, tugging his lips to hers and kissing him lightly. "You're lucky you're so cute."

He moves back in for another kiss, this time tracing his tongue along her bottom lip until she opens her mouth, allowing him access. She lies back on the bed, pulling him with her as he begins kissing a trail down her neck to her collarbone. She tries to sit up to remove her top and grant him better access, but he pins her hands to the mattress with one hand, and begins singing softly into her skin.

_There is no one left in the world_

_Who I can hold onto_

He kisses the narrow space between her breasts.

_There is really no one left at all_

_There is only you_

He unbuttons her top slowly, opening it to reveal her creamy skin.

_And if you leave me now, you leave all that we were undone_

_There is really no one left, you are the only one_

His kisses trail along the hem of her jeans, his fingers pausing on the zipper as he lowers it slowly, pulling the fabric down her legs along with her panties.

_And still the hardest part for you, is to put your trust in me_

He reaches underneath her, undoing the clasp of her bra leaving her exposed completely to him.

_I love you more than I can say_

_Why won't you just believe?_

As he finishes the last line of the song, his lips return to hers.

"I do believe Jesse, I do," she breathes, arching her body into his.

Her hands free, she quickly removes his clothing, pulling his body to hers, trying to bring him as close to her as possible.

She hates fighting with him, but she loves making up.

**A/N:** The song is Trust by The Cure.


	4. I'll Follow You Into the Dark

"Come on Beca, please?" Stacie is practically begging. "You spend all of your time with Jesse. Just for one night, come out with us?"

"You know frat parties aren't really my thing," Beca replies.

"It'll be fun! All of the Bellas are going. You're our leader, you have to go!" Stacie insists.

"Ok, fine, I'll go," Beca finally caves. Stacie is right, she hasn't hung out with them much since sophomore year began, choosing to spend most of her free time with Jesse. But tonight Jesse has to study for a big test the following day. Beca didn't have classes on Friday, and apparently the partying starts on Thursday nights now. "Soon it'll be every night," she grumbles to herself as she climbs the stairs to her dorm room. She picks up her phone to text him.

_Stacie talked me into going to a frat party tonight. Jealous?_

He replies a moment later.

_Insanely. There's nothing I love more than drunk guys grinding up on me. Have fun!_

She rolls her eyes at her phone, and sits down to work on her music until it's time to leave. She gets ready around ten, and then around eleven that evening she hears a loud ruckus outside her window and looks down to see all of the Bellas yelling at her to come downstairs. They walk across campus together to the frat house which is about a fifteen minute hike off campus. As soon as they enter, she knows it's going to be a long night.

The house is dark and dingy, and it reeks of cigarette smoke and alcohol. The place is packed with people, and there's barely any room to move, let alone dance. Stacie and the freshman Bellas immediately disappear in the crowd in search of guys. Beca stands there awkwardly for a moment, and her boots stick to the floor as she turns in the direction the music is coming from. She doesn't see anyone manning the laptop, so she bends to look at the playlist when someone taps her on the shoulder.

"Hey," a guy wearing a fraternity t-shirt says to her.

"Hey, sorry," she smiles at him sheepishly, "I was just checking out what you've got playing here."

"No problem," the guy says, "I'm Rob."

"Beca," she answers.

"Wanna dance?" he asks.

"No thanks," she smiles at him politely until he's out of sight. She tries to maneuver her way through the crowd again, but after a bunch of people bump into her, a beer is spilled down her back, and a girl wearing stilettos stomps on her foot, she's had about enough of this party. The Bellas are already mostly drunk it seems. She taps Fat Amy on the shoulder and says, "Hey, I think I'm heading out."

"We just got here!" Fat Amy replies.

"Yeah, I'm really tired though, long week," Beca explains. Really, she wants to be as far away from this place as humanly possible. It's around one thirty in the morning before she finishes saying goodbye to her friends and begins walking back to her dorm. The yard around the frat house is busy with people, but as soon as she gets about a block away the streets and sidewalks are deserted. As she walks, she can't shake the feeling that she's being watched, but chalks it up to just being tired.

She continues walking, and when she swears she hears the sound of footsteps behind her she snaps her head around to look. She catches the tail end of something dark disappearing behind a large tree.

_Shit_, she curses inwardly. Yes, someone is definitely following her. Profanity slips from her lips again when she realizes her rape whistle is hanging on a hook in her room. She pulls her cell phone out of her pocket and calls Jesse.

"Hey," he whispers when he answers, and she assumes he's in the library.

"I'm being followed," she says quietly, not wanting to draw attention to herself.

"What?" he shouts and she can hear books being slammed shut and papers rustling in the background. "Where are you?"

"I left the party. I'm walking alone down Magnolia Street back to campus."

"I'm on my way," he says. "Stay on the phone," he tells her.

"I'm scared," she admits.

"I know, I'm coming. I would have picked you up. Why didn't you call me earlier?" he wonders.

"You were studying, I didn't want to bother you. That test is important," she adds.

"Are you still being followed?" he asks, and she can hear that he's running.

She tentatively glances behind her and makes out the shape of someone darting behind a parked car. "Yes," she whispers, "He's about a half a block away, I can't see who it is."

"Keep walking," he urges. "I love you, Beca," he says, the fear evident in his voice.

"I love you too," she replies. "Hurry!"

She turns around again, and this time the cloaked figure ducks behind a mailbox. "Uh," she says into the phone, "I think the guy is wearing a cape or something."

"What?" she hears Jesse's confused voice. A moment later he comes into view, running down the street towards her. When she sees him, she breaks into a run herself.

When she reaches him, she jumps up, wrapping her arms and legs around him tightly. She's trembling and he holds her close as they stand there on the sidewalk. "Beca, thank God," he whispers into her hair as he kisses her forehead, her cheek, and finally her lips as he lowers her to the ground and takes her hand in his. She looks up at him, her face a mixture of terror and relief. "I know," he says quietly before he begins turning in every direction, looking for the perpetrator.

"Hey!" he shouts into the darkness, "I know you're there! Show yourself!"

"Jesse?" they hear a distant voice say, and none other than Benji appears out of the shadows of the night.

"Benji?" she says incredulously, "What the hell were you doing following me? You scared me half to death! Why didn't you just tell me it was you?"

"I thought you'd be mad," he explains, walking over to them, hanging his head. "Jesse asked me to look out for you tonight, and I knew you'd be mad at him if you found out, so I hid. I didn't mean to frighten you. Guess I'm not as stealthy as I thought."

"Dude, what the hell?" she says to both of them, punching Jesse in the shoulder.

"I'm sorry Bec," Jesse is so relieved, and the situation is almost comical, "I didn't realize he'd follow you. I just wanted him to check on you to make sure some asshole frat guy wasn't trying to manhandle you again."

"Jesse," she says, her voice softening. She knows with the drama of this year that he has every right to want to protect her. After all, she's been bruised, almost drugged, and once almost froze to death in a car during a horrible rainstorm. "I'm fine. There's nobody out here besides you two weirdos."

They laugh as they turn to head back to campus. Jesse reaches for her hand as they listen to Benji prattle on about some new magic trick he's learning. When the reach the campus he turns to his friend and says, "Thanks man, I'm going to walk Beca back to her room. Don't wait up."

He shifts his backpack on his shoulder as they continue down the path to her dorm and Benji heads in the direction of the Treble house.

"Don't you need to study?" she reminds him.

"Yeah, but after tonight, I don't want to let you out of my sight," he replies, squeezing her hand.

She squeezes back, "Ok. I can help you study, you know."

"I know," he whispers. When they finally reach her room and open the door, she's never been so happy to see her bed in her life.

He sits at her desk, spreading his books across it, being careful not to touch her mixing equipment as he starts to study. She changes her clothes and collapses onto the bed, facing him on her pillow.

"Ok," she tells him, her eyes closed already, "Tell me what you need to know."

He starts talking, but before he's even through the first page of his study guide, he looks over at her to see she's fast asleep. He smiles at her sleeping form before standing and pulling the blankets up over her before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

He sits back down at the desk, trying to concentrate, but his mind keeps replaying the events of the evening, the fear that something could have happened to her still nagging at him. He looks back at her, the desk lamp illuminating her face. She's so beautiful, it always takes his breath away, but that isn't what made him fall in love with her. It's the fact that she never ceases to amaze him. Just when he thinks he knows everything about her, and that he's learning to anticipate what she might say or do, she throws him a curveball. And he never knows when one is coming.

She's exciting, and fascinating, and wonderful, and his. He still can't believe it. It isn't how she looks that makes her different from every other girl he's ever met, it's who she is. On some level, he knows he's always afraid of losing her, as he did once already when she pushed him away freshman year, but it's moments like these when he allows himself to face the magnitude of what losing her would really do to him, and suddenly he's terrified.

"You know that Revolutionary War shit isn't going to learn itself," she mumbles sleepily into her pillow, startling him out of his reverie.

"Beca," the way he breathes her name conveys all the fear, anxiety, and love he's feeling in this moment, and she blinks her eyes several times, trying to focus on him.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, "You should be studying, not worrying about me. I'm fine, Jesse."

He doesn't say anything; he just looks at her with an expression full of love and concern. And she gets it, the way he's looking at her is how she feels every single time he walks away from her, and she can't help but fear it's for the last time.

"Hey," she reaches out to him, "Come here." He stands and climbs into bed, his head facing hers on the pillow as she strokes his hair. "I know," she whispers. "We're here together, that's all that matters."

He presses a soft kiss to her lips before curling himself around her.

It's another thing he loves about her, that they can communicate without ever having to say a word.

**A/N:** Shall I continue? I have more chapters already written. Not really feeling the love here... Love it? Hate it? Let me know, please!


	5. Celebrity Skin

**A/N:** Because you are awesome nerds, I am posting another chapter. Two in one day!

She feels insane, like she might burst into tears at any moment. The worst thing about it is, there is absolutely no reason to feel this way. She has an adoring husband and beautiful daughter. She has a successful career and money in the bank. She has friends and family who love her. So what the hell is her problem?

She paces around the house, unable to focus on fourteen-month-old Melody who is playing quietly on the living room floor. She's on the verge of tears, and all because she read some stupid tabloid news story about how some actor is dating some blonde actress, and suddenly she can think of nothing else.

"Why do men always go for blondes?" she grumbles to herself, "She's not even a natural blonde. She's too skinny. She's not even that famous."

She plops on the couch and looks at her daughter who is happily playing with a red Solo cup, entertained by the simplest of objects at her age. "Ugh, stop it, Beca," she says aloud. She doesn't get why this is bothering her so much. She doesn't care about celebrities or their lives. It doesn't affect her in any way. But this thought keeps eating at her brain like a parasite.

"He's probably a douche in real life," she says to herself, "Any guy who is that good looking is probably a dick. Yeah. The blonde was married when they worked on that movie together. Only a douche would break up someone's marriage." She Googles the guy and clicks on his Twitter page. "See, inane crap," she taps the screen, proving her point to no one.

She's distracted and irritable as she looks at her daughter. She's frustrated, because after returning to work when Melody was only ten weeks old, she had worked full time up until a week ago, when her boss insisted she take a sabbatical to "recharge her batteries." She was relieved, because after experiencing the guilt of not being with her child, she was finally getting a chance to be here day in and day out for a bit.

Things aren't going as planned. She is bored, and restless, and feels even guiltier because she looks forward to nap time every day. Melody had weaned a month ago from breastfeeding, and Beca thought she'd be thrilled, but something had been off ever since. She sighs loudly, and enters the words "depression after weaning" into Google, and a bunch of sites pop up.

_Oh._ So this explains it. "Apparently Mommy's hormones are all jacked up," she says to her daughter, who just smiles back at her.

Jesse arrives home from work later, greeting his girls with a kiss and an animated story about how great his day was. She's standing at the sink, doing a mountain of dishes which include the million parts of Melody's sippy cups and bottles, the high chair tray, her bibs, and she's only half listening to him.

"Hey, my folks are stopping by for a visit tonight before they head home tomorrow," he adds, and she snaps to attention.

"What?" she says.

"I told you yesterday, they're in town passing through and they want to stop and see the baby," he explains. "We talked about this last night, or were you not listening to me again?"

"Oh, like you listen to me when one of your precious movies is on!" she snaps back, but by now, the tears that have been threatening to spill all day begin their trek down her cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" he asks.

"Because I'm sad, Jesse! My hormones are all crazy, and I'm depressed. I'm sorry, I can't help it!" she sniffs.

"That's not fair!" his temper flares, "If I'm having a bad time, and I come home grumpy and snappy, I don't make excuses for my behavior. But you can always just say it's your time of the month, or it's hormones, and I'm just supposed to roll with it?"

"I'm not making excuses, I'm telling you I feel sad and just insane right now!" and just then, the doorbell rings, signaling his parents' arrival.

She runs across the kitchen in the direction of the stairs. "Where are you going?" he yells over his shoulder as he walks to the door.

"Upstairs! Tell them I don't feel well. I'll come down when I'm ready!" she shouts at him.

"Oh, you don't feel well, there's a big surprise," he says sarcastically.

"Fuck you!" she yells, slamming their bedroom door as hard as she can. She hears the sounds of him greeting his parents, and she flings herself on their bed, shaking with sobs.

She stays in the darkness of their bedroom until she hears him enter. He sits on the bed beside her. "Are you coming down?" he asks.

"Nope," she replies, not turning to him.

"Beca," he starts to say.

"I can't," she replies, and he leaves.

She doesn't go downstairs until she hears them leave. Melody is already asleep, and she quietly goes into the kitchen for a drink of water. Jesse looks at her, but doesn't say anything, his eyes trained on the television screen where another one of his movies is playing.

He doesn't join her in bed that night, either. In the morning, she wakes to the sounds of Melody on the baby monitor, and she goes to start the day. They keep the morning routine and conversation normal, as if nothing had happened the night before.

It isn't until she makes a joke about a song playing on the radio, "Why does Jason Derulo always have to say his own name in his songs?" that he turns to her and says, "So are we going to talk about it or not?"

She doesn't want to talk. When she talks, she gets upset, and she's been walking that fine line for a while now, struggling to keep herself on the happy side, and hanging on by a thread.

"Things happen, and we never talk about it, and then they never get resolved," he says as they pull into the parking lot of the baby discount outlet. "I'm sorry I was a dick. I know it isn't your fault that you're feeling sad, but I don't like thinking that you can just treat me poorly and then brush it off with an excuse. If you have a problem with your hormones or whatever, maybe you should talk to your doctor."

"It's not that bad," she explains. "It's just that maybe I'm not cut out to be a full time stay at home mother."

"And that's ok," he replies, "I know I couldn't do it, either."

"Really?" she asks.

"Really," he tells her.

"You know what's really sad?" she asks him. "I've been obsessing over some stupid celebrity couple because I wanted the guy who reminds me of you to be with the celebrity girl who reminds me of me, and instead he's with some blonde."

He laughs, "I'm not into blondes, obviously." He gestures to her hair.

She grins, "Good to know."

They smile at each other before she adds, "I'm sorry too, I've been a total bat-shit crazy bitch lately. I just have all of this anxiety and I don't know what to do with it."

"Tell you what," he replies, "Just let yourself enjoy the fantasy of it all."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning it's your mind, and you can dream or imagine anything you want. Besides, the guy is probably a douche if he's not going after the girl that is like you. Obviously he's not worth thinking about," he explains.

"That's what I've been telling myself," she grins at him. "Ok, so here's how it goes in my mind then. The guy and the girl who are like us are secretly dating, and he's just using the blonde as a cover because she, like me, likes to remain all dark and mysterious and hides her true self from the public. And he has to play it cool, resulting in him seeming like kind of a tool, to maintain the façade."

"And what about the blonde, where does she factor in this?" he asks.

"She's just a decoy," she replies. "It's really kind of sad for her."

They laugh together, and she takes his hand as they shop and complete the rest of their errands. Later, when Melody is tucked in for bed, he joins her on the couch.

"So tell me," he says quietly, "Do these celebrities remind you of us in real life, or do the characters they play remind you of us?"

"Both," she answers.

"And maybe you're obsessing over it because it makes you afraid that maybe you and I weren't meant to be, that maybe someone else could come along and threaten what we have together?" he continues.

"No, I know no one could ever enter the picture and change the way I feel about you. I've been in love with you forever. I've only ever loved you," she replies.

"They're acting you know, it isn't real. That's why they're called _actors_," he whispers.

"I know," she replies, "But I like watching them together, because it reminds me of how it was when we first met and fell in love. And on days when I feel like I did yesterday, sometimes you need that. Because remembering that passion is what keeps you going. And the fact that he isn't with her for real kind of ruined the fantasy for me at a time when I really needed it to be true."

"You want to remember what it was like when we first met?" he pauses, thoughtful. He takes her by the hand, leading her upstairs to their room. He picks up his laptop from his nightstand, sliding The Breakfast Club into the DVD slot and loading it up. He sits on their bed, fluffing the pillows behind him and gesturing for her to join him.

"If you'll just sit and watch the end of this with me, I can die a hero," he grins at her. And just as she did all those years before, she ends up watching him instead of the images on the screen. Only this time when he catches her staring, she lets him kiss her. As the kiss deepens, she pours every emotion she has into it. Her stomach erupts into butterflies, just like it did the first time she was with him like this, and she's holding his face in her hands, breathing hard when she pulls away and looks at him.

"Thank you," she breathes, pulling her sweater over her head and removing her bra in a matter of seconds. She reaches for him once more, pulling him on top of her, kissing him hard as she tugs at his clothing, eager to have it gone.

And later, when she's straddling his hips kissing a path down his chest, he looks up at her and says, "That celebrity guy is a fucking idiot."

Because, only a moron wouldn't throw himself at the feet of a girl who even slightly resembles Beca Mitchell.

**A/N:** Raise your hand if you see what I did here.


	6. Never Gonna Leave This Bed

"It's just ridiculous," she says as they enter the department store and head towards the escalator. "I mean, it's an article of clothing, not the most important decision of your life."

"Why were you even watching it?" he asks.

"Chloe was over, and she put it on, and I got sucked in like a vacuum with the vapid, self-centered brides on there. I mean, you know some of them spend thousands on a gown. You only wear it once for what, a few hours?"

"I guess some people have a vision of what they think their wedding day might be like," he counters.

She rolls her eyes, "Isn't it more important _who_ you're marrying, not _what_ you're marrying them in?"

"Well, yes," he agrees, "I think so. But that's why I'm marrying you and not one of them." They step off the escalator, "So who's going with you tomorrow?"

"Chloe, my mom, and Sheila," she replies. "Dad insisted Sheila go, saying she'd be crushed if I didn't include her."

"That's nice of you," he tells her, squeezing her hand as they enter the mattress section of the store. "Now, let's pick something that isn't going to make me wake up with a backache every morning."

"You're so old," she teases him, as he hunches over, rubbing his back.

He picks her up, tossing her on the nearest mattress, "I'm younger than you," he reminds her.

"By one month, give me a break!" she laughs as he belly flops next to her on the bed, causing her to bounce up and down. "Not this one," they say simultaneously as they get up and move to the next mattress.

He tests one out while she moves around the store, checking out price tags and labels as she goes from bed to bed. She lies down on one, lying on her back as a sales guy approaches. "Can I help you find something in particular?" he asks. The sales guy is good looking and built, with good fashion sense and a nice smile. "When trying out a mattress, you should always get in the normal position that you usually sleep for the best effect," he tells her.

Jesse appears just as she rolls onto her side, gets in the bed, and spoons her from behind. "This is how I sleep," he tells the sales guy, who narrows his eyes and turns away for a moment before composing himself again.

"So you'll be sharing the purchase today?" he asks, attempting to sound jovial.

"Yeah, an engagement gift from my parents," Jesse grins, and Beca shakes her head as she disentangles herself from Jesse's grasp and goes to check out the other options.

"Ok, well I'll just be over there if you have any questions," the sales guy says as he returns to the checkout counter.

She's in the rear corner of the store laying on yet another type of mattress when he climbs on top of her, pinning her to the bed.

"Jesse!" she hisses. "We're in public!"

"He said to get in our usual position," he jokes, pressing a hard kiss to her lips before rolling off her and onto his side.

She glares at him, "You're so hot when you're jealous," she teases.

"Me? Jealous of Mr. Tempur-Pedic over there? Please, you underestimate me."

"You're an idiot," she tells him, but is laughing nevertheless. And, she can't help but notice that the sales guy is watching her from across the room.

Jesse is relentless. On the next bed they try he pulls her on top of him so that she's straddling his hips. On the second, he picks her up bridal style and makes a big show of placing her romantically on the mattress before skimming his lips slowly from her toes to her face. On the third, he sits her on the edge before pushing her back by the shoulders. He then steps between her legs and declares loudly, "Well this one is the right height!"

She's laughing so hard she can't breathe. "Jesse! Stop!" she demands, but he just smiles at her wickedly. She loves this side of him, so she decides to play along.

On the fourth, she stands next to the bed and bends over at the waist, her rear end pointing directly at Jesse. "How about this one, is it the right height too?" she declares loudly as he comes up behind her, pushing his pelvis into her.

"Perfect," he announces, just as loudly before bending to whisper in her ear, "You'll pay for this later."

"Looking forward to it," she raises her eyebrows at him before getting into the fifth bed. She lies flat on her back and trails her hand from her face, down between her breasts, and onto the flat plane of her stomach. He's next to her in a matter of seconds. "This one," he breathes into her ear, "Definitely this one."

They walk over to the checkout counter to pay for the new mattress, and the sales guy grumpily tells them it will be delivered the following day.

She spends the next day wedding dress shopping with Chloe, her mother, and Sheila, and is exhausted when she finally returns home that evening after dinner.

"Jesse?" she calls as she enters the house. He appears at the top of the stairs.

"Hey you," he replies, "How'd it go today?"

"I bought a dress," she says.

"And you're happy with it? Did you have fun?" he asks.

"Yeah," she says, climbing the steps slowly, "I did actually. Everyone cried when I put on the dress. That's how I knew it was the one."

"And how did you know I was the one?" he winks at her.

"The jury's still is still out on that one," she quips, then laughs as he pouts. "Well, I figured no one else would put up with your dorkiness, movie trivia, and incessant talking."

"Gee, thanks," he tells her. "Want to see the new bed?"

They walk into the bedroom, and she sees that he's already made up the new mattress with their bedding. He holds his hand out to her, "Want to try it out?"

He pulls down the duvet and the sheets and they climb in together. She lies down on her back, shifting back and forth, testing the comfort level of the mattress. "It's nice," she states before sitting back up again and heading towards the bathroom.

She starts removing her clothing, until she is standing there wearing only a strapless bra and panties. He watches her for a moment before joining her. He stands behind her, watching her in the mirror as she takes off her jewelry and places it on the vanity. He sweeps her hair off her shoulder before lowering his lips to her soft skin. She closes her eyes at the sensation.

He spins her around to face him, kissing her lips as his hands tangle in her hair. He reaches behind her, unclasping her bra in one quick motion before scooping her up bridal style and carrying her back to the bed. "Want to try it out?" he repeats, his voice low and husky in her ear as he places her gently on the mattress and hovers over her.

They make love slowly, passionately, his love for her radiating out of every kiss and every touch. Her body is humming with pleasure as she opens her eyes to look at him and sees the expression of total adoration written across his handsome face.

He's curled into her side, breathing hard with effort when she rolls to face him, tracing his jaw with her fingers as she says, "You know how I know you're the one? Because when I'm with you, I never want to be anywhere else. Because I love you so completely."

He smiles at her, kissing her lightly on the lips before closing his eyes. "Good, because we are never leaving this bed," he murmurs into the crook of her neck.

She decides she can live with that.

**A/N:** THANK YOU for all your awesome reviews! They keep me motivated to continue writing.


	7. The Edge of Glory

It's completely dark in her dorm room. She hears the steady sound of his breathing and she knows he's asleep, but she's wide awake. He's still right here, next to her, but somehow she feels like she's dying.

They're leaving tomorrow, to head to opposite sides of the country. It's something she told him to do, to leave her. She knows it's the right thing, having spent all of her college years with him. She needs to be on her own for a while, to figure out what she really wants in life. She just didn't expect it to be this hard.

This is why she didn't want to fall in love with him at first. This is why she fought it, to avoid feeling like this. But this gnawing ache in the pit of her stomach is a thousand times worse than how she felt when her father left. It feels like a hole in the center of her being. She can't breathe.

She rolls away from him, thinking that putting a little distance between her body and his is going to help. She doesn't sleep much that night, if at all.

It isn't until he's out of sight that she allows herself to break down, to feel something. She's been putting on an act for him, because she knows if she lets on how she really feels he won't go, and he needs to go. She's not going to be the one responsible for him not reaching his dreams.

The days without him pass, and she feels nothing but empty. She doesn't enjoy anything as much as she used to, and even music can't seem to heal the constant dull ache in her chest. And as each day blends into the next, she tries to convince herself that this pain will ease with time, but it doesn't.

She sleeps clutching the extra pillow, his pillow, to her chest, pressing it tightly to herself in an effort to fill the hollow void, but it never really works.

Every man she meets is compared to him. Every feeling she has that even closely resembles joy or laughter, and her thoughts shift to him. Every song about love or loss drains her to the point where she's shaking. She decides that this hollow feeling must be because she gave her heart to him a long time ago, and she's never going to get it back.

She opens the door to her apartment and the stereo flicks on as if on cue. Simple Minds starts playing -their song, of all songs. She's just not in the mood for this. "What the—" she says aloud as she turns on the light.

And there he is, sprawled out across her sofa as if he lives there. "What, you don't like our song anymore?" he questions.

"Oh my God, Jesse!" she runs towards him, "What are you doing here, how—"

And his lips are on hers, and she's wrapping her legs around his waist because it's been so long since she felt him. He feels her tears begin to fall and he sits them down on the sofa, her legs still wrapped firmly around him.

"So I went, I tried it," he begins, "And it sucked. And now I know for sure, I don't want to do anything unless you're a part of it."

Her hands are in his hair when she says, "I am an idiot. I thought we needed this."

"We did," he grins, "And now you know you're stuck with me."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," she answers as he's picking her up and carrying her to her bedroom.

"You have a habit of making yourself at home, did you know that?" she smirks into his ear. He grins into their kiss before pressing her into the mattress, his body covering hers.

They make love slowly, savoring every kiss, every touch, and when he fills her completely he whispers into the darkness, "That's because my home is wherever you are."

It's completely dark in her bedroom. She hears the steady sound of his breathing and she knows he's asleep, but she's wide awake. He's still right here, next to her, but somehow she feels like she's drowning.

In some ways, it's as if they were never apart, but she can't let go of how she felt when they were on opposite sides of the country, when their future together was unknown. Her heart has healed, but the scars on it are still visible.

He seems unfazed, in typical Jesse fashion he's just happy to be with her again. Life carries on as usual, and it isn't until they're at a party at Chloe's house that it hits her like a ton of bricks. She's leaning in the doorframe of Chloe's living room, watching him as he talks to her female coworkers. The women are all charmed by him, of course, laughing as he says something witty and cute. She's always known he could have any woman he wanted, and the realization of what could have happened when he was in New York nearly crushes her. And suddenly, she needs air.

She walks out onto Chloe's front porch, and the redhead, noticing her expression follows her out there. "Beca?" Chloe asks.

"I'm sorry," Beca explains, "I just needed air."

"He's back, you're happy now," Chloe says quietly, knowing her friend well.

"I know," Beca whispers, "But I can't help but think about how close I was to losing him. He could have anybody he wants. Everybody loves him."

"No one else loves him the way you do," Chloe replies, "You guys belong together. And I know you're still afraid Beca, you've never really opened yourself completely because you always thought it was going to end. You've been trying to protect yourself, but it's obvious you can't. You fell for him a long time ago, so just let it happen and stop fighting it."

Beca sighs, "I don't know how to stop fighting. It's what I do. It's who I am."

"No it isn't," her friend corrects, "Who you are is what you feel right here," she points to the center of Beca's chest, the place that she has been keenly aware of since she met Jesse. "I don't know what you're doing out here still talking to me, when where you should be is with him."

Chloe is right. She walks back into the house and into the middle of the living room. "Jesse Swanson!" she says loudly, "I am in love with you, and I need you to take me home right now!"

He stops mid-sentence, looking up at her from his conversation in shock, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. The entire party is watching him as he stands slowly and moves across the room to her. "Ok," he tells her, and before he can utter another word, she's kissing him. The kiss is slow, and passionate, and everyone is clapping and cheering when they finally break apart. He takes her hand and leads her out the door, thanking Chloe as they leave.

The drive back to their apartment is short, and when she unlocks the door he turns to her and says, "Now do you want to tell me what that was about?"

"I love you," she says.

"I know," he answers, "And I love you."

"No!" she says, exasperated, "I really_ love_ you."

"Ditto," he smiles.

"You don't get it!" she snaps, and his head is spinning as he tries to process what's happening, "Do you know how close we were to not being us anymore? Do you know what it was like for me to be without you? Do you know how afraid I've been since the day we met that you were just going to leave me for someone better? I just, I can't—"

He opens his mouth to say something, but she continues.

"Do you know what this feels like?" she demands, clasping her hands over that spot that felt so empty without him, "You're in here with me, all the time. No matter what I do or where I go, you'll always be here. And I'm just so tired, Jesse. I'm so tired of being afraid."

"Then stop," he says softly, "Beca, I feel the same way. When I was in New York, it occurred to me that you might find someone new, and that thought had me on the next plane out here. I can't bear losing you. I can't be without you. I _love_ you too, and I'm not going anywhere."

"Jesse," she breathes, and his heart starts pounding, because she's saying his name that way again.

And as clothes are removed, he senses changes in her as the last of her walls are lowered, allowing him in finally. They make love right there in the entranceway, and then again on the sofa, and on the kitchen counter, and finally end up in their bed. And she amazes him yet again, because just when he thinks he couldn't possibly love her any more, he falls for her even harder.

It's completely dark in their bedroom. She hears the steady sound of his breathing and she knows he's asleep, but she's wide awake. He's still right here, next to her, but somehow she feels like she's dreaming.

**A/N:** The song that inspired this is Lady Gaga's The Edge of Glory, but the live version from her holiday album. If you watch So You Think You Can Dance, it's the song that Mackenzie and Paul danced to this week. It's absolutely beautiful, as was their dance to it. Reviews = more chapters coming soon!J


	8. With or Without You

From the first instant he sees her, he realizes that she is someone he wants to get to know better.

Sure, he is attracted to her. She is beautiful, even with that amazingly scary ear spike. But then he acts like his usual dorky self, who most girls think is charming, or at least smile at him, and she just narrows her eyes in something that resembles a scowl. And he can't help it, he's intrigued.

It starts out as a game to him, a challenge to get her to smile or laugh. And he can see that over time, she is starting to enjoy his company, even if she won't admit it to anyone. He learns that she's sarcastic, and witty, and smart, and passionate. But she's holding something back, which makes her even more fascinating to him.

On the day of the a cappella auditions, he is shocked when she turns up, and then sings that soulful, simple song using beats she makes with a plastic cup, and he is in awe of her. Her voice is so innocent, so pure, so unlike the Beca Mitchell he has grown to know over the last few weeks.

He doesn't end up remembering much about Hood Night, only that he shamelessly flirted with her, telling her they were going to end up having aca-children together. Only this time, his flirting earns him a smile and a playful shove. She smiles at him again a few weeks later when he's holding up record albums in front of his face in a desperate attempt to get her to laugh. But damn Luke interrupts them, showing off his tattoos and six-pack abs, and she doesn't hide the blush that spreads across her cheeks as she looks at Luke.

He doesn't give up. He plans ahead, packing his bag with a candle, snacks, and his favorite movies, and goes to the place on the quad where he knows she sits. And when he finds out she doesn't like movies, he's even more determined to know this mystery girl.

She's quiet at the riff-off at first, standing in the back of the Bellas, barely participating. But then out of nowhere she starts rapping to Blackstreet, and he's blown away by her for what feels like the hundredth time. She sways her hips and looks directly at him through hooded eyes, and he finally acknowledges to himself how much he wants her.

They hang out all the time, and talk, and work together at the radio station. He visits her room often, and she his. They are friends. One night she shares her music with him, and he puts on his favorite movie for her. And when he notices that she's watching him instead of the movie, his heart starts pounding with hope that maybe she wants him back. He moves in to kiss her, only to have her pull away abruptly.

When she punches out the Tonehanger for him, he's floored. She's adorably tiny, but so fierce, and when he meets her outside of the jail she balls her fists and teasingly punches him a few times, and he loves it. But the moment is ruined when she sees he called her father because he was worried about her.

She's not at the radio station anymore when he is. They don't really talk anymore, and he misses her. He nearly goes through the ceiling when he hears Luke ask her out, shaking his head in disbelief that he is nowhere near where he wants to be with her after all that they've gone through this year.

"I don't need your help, ok? Can you back off?"

He's done. He can't deal with this anymore. Caring about her is exhausting, and he can't do it if he's going to get nothing in return but hurt. She calls him several times, leaving him messages, but he doesn't allow himself to forgive her. Even when she shows up at his door to apologize to him for yelling at him, he knows she just doesn't get it. He's open and honest and giving, and he can't be with someone who is constantly going to fight that. He closes the door on their relationship, or whatever it was that they had together.

"Hey," he hears from behind as he's waiting to go on stage at the finals. "Good luck," she tells him, a look of uncertainty on her face. He returns the sentiment, but there's so much more he wants to say to her.

Instead, he pours all of that emotion into his performance. He can feel her watching him, which only adds to the fire. After, when the Bellas are called to the stage he can barely muster up the energy to watch her, because it hurts.

When the first few notes of his song, their song, start playing, he dares to look up at the stage, only to see that she's the one who's singing. Slowly, it dawns on him that this isn't just a performance, she's singing to him. Her eyes are locked on his as she asks him "As you walk on by, will you call my name?" And he nods, because he knows he will. Her answering smile takes his breath away, because she's never looked so happy to him before.

Her lips are on his before he even knows what's happening. He's wanted her for so long, and now here she is, kissing him in front of all these people after serenading him on stage. His impulse is to carry her somewhere private and kiss her until he can't breathe, but his feet stay rooted in that row of seats instead.

And slowly, she lets him into her heart. He knows it isn't easy for her, and he tries his hardest not to push. But always, he wonders if he's the one who loves more in the relationship. If he hadn't fallen first, would she have even noticed him?

He's the romantic one. He's the one to come after her after their separation after college. He's the one to propose. He's the one to encourage her to have children. He's the one who is constantly trying to get her to feel more, to express more, to be more. And it isn't that she doesn't reciprocate, she does. But he's always first.

Melody is born in early June. It's after Mother's Day but before Father's Day. He and Beca aren't ones for celebrating holidays with lavish gifts, cards, or grand gestures. She thinks that cards bought from a store are a waste of money, because someone else wrote them. She tells him that there's no point in buying each other gifts from their joint account because it's like buying something for yourself, and they need the money for Melody now.

She's barely sleeping, and Melody is only a few weeks old when his first Father's Day rolls around. He wakes to an empty bed, figuring she must be tending to the baby in the nursery. He glances over at the clock on his nightstand and instead finds his laptop sitting there open, a DVD sitting in a case placed over the keyboard. The note attached to it reads: "Watch me."

He puts the DVD in and loads it up. The laptop screen goes black, and then he hears her voice, speaking in an overly dramatic, movie trailer tone.

"_In a world where sleep is a distant memory…"_

An image of Melody crying in the middle of the night appears on the screen.

_"When spit-up and diapers become a way of life…"_

The picture changes to him attempting to change Melody's diaper in the hospital, the pair of them laughing as he fumbles nervously with the sticky tabs.

_"And singing to yourself is the only way to block out the incessant screaming…"_

Melody, screaming at the top of her lungs in her bassinet while he hovers over her, singing a soothing lullaby.

_"Only one man exists who can save them…"_

The video of him holding Melody for the first time right after her birth plays, followed by a few seconds of film from their wedding of the moment they share their first kiss as husband and wife.

The screen goes black, and the word Daddy appears in white block letters. The image changes to her, rocking Melody in the glider in her room. She leans over the infant and whispers,_ "We are the luckiest girls in the world, you and me, because Daddy loves us so, so much. And he's never going to leave us. And even though Mommy spent a lot of her life being afraid, you won't have to, baby girl."_

It fades to black once more, and her voice says,_ "A man who had overcome many obstacles…"_

A picture of them taken during freshman year appears where he's smiling and she's crossing her arms across her chest protectively. A group photo of the Bellas during the time they weren't speaking, her in the back row not smiling.

_"And decided to risk it all for the one he loves…"_

Them kissing at their first ICCA finals. A picture of him sleeping in her bed the night he came to Los Angeles for her. A photo from the day they celebrated his big promotion at work.

And then the image turns back into her sitting on their bed, in the very spot he's in now.

She looks right into the camera and says, "_I know I've made things difficult, but hopefully interesting. I hope you know that even though I fight it, and I'm stubborn, I really do love you with every part of my being. You're the most amazing person I've ever met, and I knew it as soon as I met you. Normal people don't sing to strangers on the sidewalk, weirdo." She smiles before continuing, "And now you're the most wonderful father on top of that. Every time I see you with our daughter, I fall in love with you all over again."_

The screen goes black again, and her trailer voice says,_ "Jesse Swanson is…the best husband and father in the world." _

A slideshow of photos begins. They're pictures from the last few weeks. Melody's first bath, her ride home from the hospital, all of the precious moments of her life so far. Then the credits start to roll.

_Cast_

_Daddy Jesse Swanson_

_Mommy Beca Swanson_

_Aca-baby Melody Swanson_

_Directed and Produced by_

_Beca Swanson_

_Original Screenplay Written by_

_Mr. & Mrs. Jesse Swanson _

_(because it was inevitable)_

He has tears in his eyes as the film ends. "Happy Father's Day," he hears coming from behind him, and he turns to see his wife standing there holding their newborn daughter.

"Bec," he whispers, "Thank you."

"Thank _you_," she replies softly, kissing their baby's head before turning her face up to kiss her husband.

All he knows is, living with Beca sure beats living without her.


	9. Open Your Eyes

"Oww," he grumbles, rubbing the side of his jaw as he swallows the last bit of hamburger from his dinner.

"Jesse," she scolds, "You really need to get those wisdom teeth taken care of."

"I'm fine, they're fine," he insists, wincing as he bites into a French fry.

She shakes her head at him, "Promise me you'll make an appointment to get them looked at?"

"Ok," he tells her reluctantly and she smiles.

A few days later he walks into her dorm room late in the evening, throwing his backpack down on the floor. "See what you did?" he whines. "Now I have to go have surgery to get these stupid useless extra teeth out!"

"Oh, you poor baby," she mock pouts at him. "It's standard procedure. Almost everyone needs to have their wisdom teeth out. Don't they just do a local anesthetic?"

"No, mine are impacted. They need me to be fully unconscious," he corrects. "You know I've never had anesthesia before."

"I have once," she tells him. "It's no big deal. They either put a mask on you or give you an I.V. and then boom, you're out. The next thing you know, you're awake and it's done."

"What did you have it for?" he asks.

"When I was little, I fell and broke my ankle and they had to reset it. Much easier to put a kid out instead of trying to do it while I was awake. That thing hurt like hell."

"I bet," he replies.

She can tell he's nervous about the whole thing so she adds, "It's going to be just fine, you know. Besides, you're lucky to have made it to twenty-one without having any surgery yet."

"True," he replies, "But that doesn't make it any more fun. And I'm going to have to drink my food for a week!"

"I'll make you hamburger shakes, ok?" she jokes.

"Disgusting!" but at least he's smiling.

The next week she's taking him to the hospital for the surgery.

"Why do they insist on always doing surgery at the crack of dawn?" she grumbles as they sit down in the waiting room. "It's like adding insult to injury."

"By definition," he agrees. When they check him in they ask if he has someone waiting to drive him home afterwards. "Yes, my girlfriend Beca Mitchell," he tells the nurse. They lead him into a back room, have him change into a gown, and set him up in a hospital bed. A nurse comes in to set up his I.V. line, and then the anesthesiologist arrives and explains to him what will happen. He feels a grogginess settle over him, and then nothing.

Beca sits in the waiting room. The surgery is only supposed to take an hour, two at the most. She tries to focus on the book she brought to read, but finds that she keeps looking at her watch.

When almost two hours have passed, she gets up and walks over to the receptionist counter. Just as she's about to ask if they have any information on Jesse, a nurse walks into the waiting room.

"Beca Mitchell?" she calls.

"Yes?" Beca replies, walking over to her.

The nurse looks solemn as she says, "I'm sorry Miss Mitchell, but Jesse is having trouble coming out of anesthesia. Are you a relative of his?"

"I'm his girlfriend," she clarifies, "Is he going to be ok?"

"Does he have a history of having difficulty waking from anesthesia that you know of?" the nurse asks.

"He's never had anesthesia before," Beca answers. "Is he going to be ok?" she repeats.

The nurse frowns before saying, "I'll keep you updated, ok?" and turns to go back through the swinging doors.

Beca feels like she can't breathe. What does this woman mean, he's having trouble waking up? She starts pacing around the waiting room. This can't be happening.

Her thoughts are racing a mile a minute, and images of him keep flashing through her mind. Jesse, with his juice pouches and movie trivia. Jesse, performing with the Trebles, his eyes sparkling in excitement. Jesse, the feel of his skin and his lips against hers. Jesse, matching her wit for wit, heart to heart, step by step. Jesse, his gorgeous brown eyes, adorable dimples, and sexy toned body. And it feels like someone is squeezing her chest as hard as they can.

"Miss Mitchell?" she hears her name again and turns to see the same nurse. She runs over to her.

"He's still not awake but his vitals are stable. You can come and see him now," the nurse tells her.

"Why isn't he waking up?" Beca asks, frantic.

"Some people react differently to general anesthesia, and it takes them longer to wake than the average person. The next time he has surgery, he needs to tell the doctor that he is slow to wake up so that they can adjust the medications accordingly."

They turn the corner and enter a room with curtains that are separating individual beds. There are doctors and nurses bustling in every direction. The nurse walks over to a curtain and pulls it open to reveal Jesse, lying flat on his back with his eyes closed. There's some swelling in his jaw from the surgery, but other than that he looks peaceful.

"Jesse!" she runs over to him, grabbing hold of his hand. "Oh Jesse!" she repeats, lifting his hand to her lips and pressing a kiss to it. Gingerly, she perches on the edge of the bed and gazes at his sleeping form.

Beca doesn't have many regrets in life, but one is that she wasted an entire year pushing this man away. He should have given up on her, he almost did in fact. When she first met him she thought he was cute, though a little dorky. But he could make her laugh and smile, and no matter what she threw at him, he bounced it back. He was the only person she knew that could turn a horrible situation into something funny or positive. And best of all, he knew exactly who she was, and he loved her for it.

"You once told me that one person in a relationship always loves more than the other," she whispers to him, still holding his hand tightly, "But I don't think that's true for us."

She strokes his hair with her free hand, "I think we work because we love the same way. And you were the smart one, you knew this long before I did. We may seem different, and come from different families, but fundamentally we are the same. And I need you to wake up now, and tell me I'm an idiot, because I'm still just figuring out what you've known all along."

"You're an idiot," he mumbles groggily, his eyes blinking into focus.

"Hey weirdo," she smiles at him, giving his hand a squeeze. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," he replies.

"You took a while to wake up," she explains, "I was so afraid for a while there."

"I heard what you said," he tells her, "I always knew you were a hopeless romantic," he teases.

"Shut up, I am not," she insists.

"Are too," he tries to smile, wincing a little, "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

They release him a few hours later, and she takes him back to the Treble house to rest. She doesn't leave his side the next few days, even skipping class claiming that she needs to take care of him.

"I'm fine, Bec," he says adamantly, "Seriously. I can almost eat regular foods. No more pain or swelling. You need to get to class."

She goes, reluctantly, but has trouble paying attention, even more so than usual. As soon as the class ends she's back in his room.

"I get it," she tells him as she enters without knocking.

"What?" he looks up at her in confusion.

"I get how you felt when you thought something happened to me before," she explains, "Because I don't think I can handle another moment like I had when I thought you might not wake up."

"Beca," his voice drops an octave, "I told you I shouldn't have had that surgery," his eyes twinkle in amusement.

"Jesse," she warns, "I'm being serious."

"I'm sorry," he whispers, pulling her by the hand towards him. She falls onto the bed next to him, tipping his bowl of popcorn in the process. "Now see what you did," he says softly.

"Shut up," she replies, climbing on top of him, the bowl hitting the ground with a resounding thunk. She lightly kisses his lips, unsure of whether he's still sore from the surgery. When he deepens the kiss for them, she kisses him harder. She rolls over, pulling him on top of her, needing to feel his weight on her. She breaks the kiss, holding his face with her hands, "Don't do that to me, ever again," she demands.

"I'll do my best," he answers, reaching to pull her shirt over her head. The rest of their clothing soon joins the popcorn bowl on the floor, and as they move together, Jesse pulls her close to him, whispering a single word in her ear, "Soulmates."

And when she feels the unmistakable tug of emotion in the pit of her stomach, she knows it's the truth.


	10. Parachute

The first time they are together, she tries to convince herself that it's just physical attraction, even though she knows it's much, much more than that.

_There we stand about to fly  
Peeking down over land  
Parachute behind _

His lips slowly skim the contours of her body, and she holds her breath, her eyes clamped shut. Her skin is tingling; erupting into flames everywhere he touches her. It's slow, deliberate, as if he's trying to memorize every curve, every freckle, every line.

_What was that moment for which we live  
Without a parachute about to dive _

Her first time was hurried, get in and get out. The guy wasn't gentle, or caring, or doing any of the things that Jesse is now doing to her. Her heart is pounding in her chest. She swears he must be able to hear it too.

_I find myself convincing  
Blindly falling faster  
How easy  
Know the place I'm leaving  
And the rest is just gone _

He keeps his maddeningly slow pace, his light touches to her breasts and her inner thighs driving her wild. She instinctively arches up to him, her body telling him what she wants, and she can feel his lips smile against her neck as he traces them from her collarbone to her shoulder.

"Jesse," she breathes, and he stops for just a moment to look into her eyes, seeking permission. She nods, pulling his mouth down to hers as he enters her for the first time, filling her completely.

_Oh the adoration  
But how much strength does it take  
For exploration  
For split decision  
Or are you stronger to remain _

"My God, Beca," he murmurs in the darkness, his voice laden with desire. "Beca," he repeats as he begins to move. She can feel him trembling slightly, and she pulls his head into the crook of her neck, stroking his hair as they move together.

She is unable to form any coherent thoughts, only focusing on the sensation of his body against hers. She's breathing hard as he sends her over the edge, a million colors exploding behind her closed eyelids. He breathes her name once more before collapsing on top of her.

Her limbs feel like jelly, like even if she wanted to get up she couldn't. She feels exhausted yet completely exhilarated at the same time. She looks over at him, his chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. '_Is it always like this_?' she wonders. He begins tracing the outlines of her tattoos, asking her about them, and somehow she's able to formulate sentences in response.

She tells herself she was just riding the high of their first time, that it wasn't anything special. But then there's a second time, and a third, and a fourth, and the feeling only heightens for her. She's learning what makes him sigh against her lips, and what turns him on to the point of no return. He only has to look at her in that way and she feels the gelatinous-limb effect wash over her once more. And still, she tells herself it's only physical.

_I find myself convincing  
Blindly falling faster  
How easy  
Know the place I'm leaving  
And the rest is just gone _

She's been with him intimately for three weeks, nearly every day in fact, when they're sitting on the quad in the afternoon sun one day. At first, he's rambling on about some nonsensical movie trivia and she's only half-listening. She glances up at him in polite acknowledgment when she notices the way the sun is illuminating his face in such a way and she just can't stop staring at him. She feels her stomach drop, as if she's just plummeted from a high place, and her hand automatically moves to cover the place on her abdomen, thinking it might stop this feeling. He doesn't seem to notice, continuing on with his rant about how he had to watch a film in his class that was only a camera zooming in on a single photograph across the room for forty-five minutes straight.

_It crept up on me  
Ignored all my pleas  
Begging to leave  
No justice to name me _

She's anxious. She can't stop thinking about him. It occupies her every thought, her entire sense of being. She's never felt this way before. She's always been independent, focused, and strong. This is just, no. She can't be like this.

_Fell out of the sky  
Cease it to be  
Without a reply  
Gravity fails me _

They're working together at the radio station. She's barely present, her mind a million miles away. He's trying desperately to engage her in any way, but her stomach is in a knot.

_And when I awoke  
I knew what was real  
Hope to convince you  
Lies they all torture me _

"Come on Becs," he quips, "This is grade-A material here. You know my dorkiness is all part of my charm."

"I know," she sighs, "It's one of the reasons I love you."

"What?" he breathes out, as her jaw drops with the reality of what she just said.

"I mean—I," she stutters, turning away from him, unable to look him in the eye.

"Beca," he's using that tone she loves. He steps closer to her, turning her around to face him. He sweeps a stray piece of hair out of her face and looks into her eyes. "I love you too," he says simply.

"You do?" she squeaks, unsure.

"God yes," he says, "I've been wanting to tell you for so long now."

"Since when?" she asks him.

And he tries to pinpoint the exact moment he knew, but a million little things enter his stream of consciousness, and he doesn't know precisely when. "Since always," he decides on his answer.

"You're an idiot," she tells him, "There's no way that you could have loved me always, you didn't even—" he silences her with a kiss filled with passion. She doesn't even realize she's moving backward until she comes into contact with something solid behind her. He's trailing kisses down her neck and she's losing all ability to think coherently.

"What do you say we break Luke's rule, give him a little something to remember us by?" Jesse chuckles in her ear seductively.

_Opened the door  
Knew what was me  
I finally realized  
Parachute over me_

She hops up on the desk, "Come here, nerd," she laughs into his lips as she pulls his t-shirt over his head.

He leaves her in her bra in case Luke returns earlier than expected, and lifts her, placing her gently on the desk before moving to stand in between her legs. He leaves his pants around his ankles, in case he needs to pull them back up in a hurry. And it's awkward, and clumsy, and rushed. But when he whispers, "I love you," into her ear softly before sliding into her, she knows it's real.

_Parachute over me_

She throws her head back as the waves of pleasure wash over her, and he's bracing himself on the desk, his arms on either side of her hips as he tries to catch his breath. They dress just in time for Luke to return. Luke eyes them suspiciously, as Jesse's shirt is on backwards and Beca's buttons are done unevenly, her hair a bit more mussed than when he left. "Stupid immature interns," Luke mumbles under his breath as he disappears into the booth.

They race out of the studio, hand in hand, still laughing about Luke's expression of disgust. And when they finally stop running Jesse's mumbling something under his breath about a 'damn six-pack' when Beca silences him with a kiss.

_Parachute over me_

"You, I love you, weirdo," she reminds him, because it's the truth.

**A/N:** The song is Parachute by Guster. When I listen to this song, it reminds me of what it feels like to fall in love.


	11. Hey Jealousy

She watches them walk out of class together and has the sudden urge to punch something as hard as she can.

She knows that Stephanie is just a friend to him, an assigned partner for a class project, but did the class project have to take _all_ semester? And did this partner have to be _so_ damn attractive?

The worst thing about it is, when she watches them together she can't help but think that Stephanie is more of a match for him. She's upbeat, charming, and confident. She loves movies and has seen almost all of them, it seems. She laughs at everything he says rather than rolling her eyes or mocking him for being a dork. She clearly doesn't have a problem with being affectionate, as Beca observes the way she casually touches his arm while they talk.

"Hey Beca!" he greets her, noticing that she's waiting for him. He walks over to her, Stephanie trailing a few steps behind him.

"Hi Stephanie," Beca smiles thinly, and the blonde nods in response. Beca crosses her arms across her chest, wishing for a moment that she didn't have trouble with public displays of affection, and that she hadn't complained the few times Jesse had tried to touch her or kiss her when they weren't alone.

An awkward few seconds pass before Stephanie turns to Jesse and says, "Ok, well I'll see you tomorrow," and nods curtly at Beca as she turns to leave.

He notices none of this, of course, and happily rambles on about what he learned in class. He really is oblivious sometimes, because to Beca it is painfully obvious that Stephanie is interested in him. She's tried to tell him before, but he just laughs it off.

He starts talking to Stephanie more, on the phone, via text messaging, and then he starts talking _about_ her. They'll be watching a movie and he'll interject what Stephanie thinks about the acting or the music. They'll be eating dinner and he'll repeat a funny story that Stephanie told him after class.

She tells herself that it's no different than her telling him stories about the Bellas, or him talking about Benji. But it is different, because she can't shake the feeling that Stephanie wants to be more than friends with her boyfriend.

They have a big blowout over it, which results in her storming out and him chasing after her, and hot make up sex in the end. But the feeling won't leave the pit of her stomach, that gnawing feeling that she can't seem to shake.

After the fight, she notices a change in him. He's more considerate of how she feels. Only now, he hangs up his phone call with Stephanie when he arrives at her dorm room for the night. And he doesn't react to her texts. Instead, when his phone buzzes with a message and she asks who it's from, he says, "No one important," which always means Stephanie.

She thinks Stephanie is all in the past. Only, the following semester, she turns up in one of his classes again. Beca sees them leaving together one day and asks him about it.

"She's the same major as me," he explains, "So we're probably going to run into each other."

Beca doesn't say anything. She's tired of having this fight with him. She trusts Jesse, she really does, and she knows he would never cheat on her. And still, she doesn't want Jesse around Stephanie. She doesn't want him to even look at her.

She tries, she really does, to be the supportive girlfriend. She's kind and smiling when she sees Stephanie or Jesse talks about her. She's not going to be that girl, the jealous kind who makes unfair demands because she's too insecure to trust her man. No, she's not that girl.

They're settled on her bed one night about to watch Silver Linings Playbook when he says, "Steph said this was really good."

"Great," Beca replies, unable to hide the sarcasm in her voice.

"What?" he asks.

"Nothing," she says, "Let's just watch the movie."

"Bec—"

She stands up abruptly, almost knocking his laptop off the bed. "I hate this!" she throws her hands up, starting to pace around the room.

He scoots to the edge of the bed, about to say something when she cuts him off yet again, "It's like the universe keeps throwing it in my face! And I'm like shut the fuck up and it's like, no! Here's reason five million and two why you're not the one for Jesse!"

"Who is saying we're not right for each other?" he asks hesitantly.

"Don't you see it? Stephanie. She's the movie lover. She laughs at your jokes. She's beautiful, and unbroken, and normal, and affectionate, and everything I'm not. I bet your mom would just love it if you brought her home next summer instead of me! She'd actually let you kiss her in public!"

"For the billionth time, I do not want to be with Stephanie!" he exclaims.

"I hate that you're friends with her. I hate that she makes you laugh and smile. You're my best friend, Jesse. You're my everything! And I'm sorry, but I just don't want to share you," she continues to pace.

"I don't want to share you, either," he says quietly.

"See, that's the thing, you don't have to," she corrects. "I'm not that close with anyone else here, or anyone else in my life for that matter. I'm all yours."

He freezes, as if this never occurred to him before. He's the social one in this relationship, but she isn't. Sure, she's friends with the Bellas but she hasn't opened up to them like she has to him. She isn't close with her family like he is either.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, unsure of what else to say.

"It isn't your fault, it's mine. I'm alone because of me," she sits down on the bed next to him.

"No, it isn't," he replies, "I know you. You'd rather have one best friend than a hundred acquaintances. You're all about quality rather than quantity, and I respect that. I didn't realize that my friendship with Stephanie was hurting you like this. I'll back off, tell her I'm too busy to talk, stuff like that.

"She's going to know it's because of me," Beca says, putting her face in her hands.

"So what?" he says. "Oh, and by the way, my mom loves you."

"She does not!"

"Yes, she does. She told me so just last week. Remember when you came into my room and I was on the phone? She said she knew you were there because my voice sounded happier as soon as I saw you. She said you're a keeper."

Beca laughs, "Well, good."

Jesse keeps his word, he slowly severs ties with Stephanie. They are still in the same class, but he no longer walks out with her. Beca is waiting for him one day as the class lets out, and sees him walking alone, Stephanie about fifteen feet behind him.

"Hey weirdo!" Beca calls, before running to him and kissing him soundly on the lips. He's shocked at first, being that they're in the middle of a crowd of people. She holds him close, kissing him for a long moment before finally breaking apart.

"Beca," he breathes, "What was that for? I thought you didn't do PDA."

"Maybe I want the whole world to know you're mine," she looks directly in his eyes.

"I thought it was fairly obvious," he replies.

And he doesn't give her another reason to be jealous, not for a long, long time. Around eight years later, a very bored and very anxious Beca is sitting on their sofa in their Los Angeles home one evening.

"Ugh! Why won't you just die already!" she yells, flinging popcorn at her television screen.

Melody is sleeping upstairs as she watches the popular premium cable channel show.

"Come on one of you vampires, rip her fucking head off!" more popcorn flies at the television, smacking the blonde actress square in the face just as Jesse walks into the room.

"Hey come on, not the new flat screen!" he jokes, noticing that the actress she despises is on the screen.

"I hate her!" she says emphatically.

"Do you hate her or her character?" he asks.

"Both!" she exclaims, and he laughs.

"You know, you should feel sorry for her, she's only some B-list actress who's stuck on the TV track," he interjects. "Why don't you just change the channel if you're so frustrated?"

She turns the channel, and on comes some awards show, the same blonde actress appearing on the screen. "God damn it!" more popcorn flies, "Who does she think she is in that dress? It looks like slutty cellophane! And isn't she like, thirty? Teen Choice doesn't mean you have to show up _looking_ like one! And there's her hot-ass younger boy-toy marriage home-wrecker boyfriend. They make me want to projectile vomit all over the TV!"

He's laughing outright at her now. "What is it about her that you hate so much, Becs?"

And then it dawns on her, this actress reminds her of Stephanie. "Ok, well maybe she reminds me of Stephanie from college. And maybe, I just don't like her with _him_. You're way more attractive than him, Jesse Swanson. Because it's your personality, it's who you are, your true character, that makes you hot."

"Oh, I'm hot now am I?" he teases.

"Come on, you know you are," she rolls her eyes.

"Prove it," he says, his voice low and husky.

Not breaking eye contact with him, she switches the television off with the remote. She walks over to him slowly, placing her hands on his chest as she tilts up her face to his. "Come on nerd," she whispers in the tone that drives him wild, "Show me some of your moves, the ones that drive all the girls crazy."

He shakes his hips a bit, running his hand around his head through his hair, and down the side of his neck and chest, the trademark Jesse Swanson dance move that she mocked in college. In response, she points at him and turns her hand into the shape of a phone, holding it up to her ears as if to say "Call me." He laughs, moving in to nibble her earlobe.

"Want to start on making aca-baby number two?" she whispers into his neck, and he stills, turning to look at her.

"I don't know," he says, "That will require a lot of sex. And it's more procreational than recreational."

"You make it sound so clinical. Not up for it?" she smiles, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

"I don't know," he grins, "I left my lab coat at work."

She shakes her head, "You are such a _dork_."

"It's one of the main reasons you love me," he retorts, and she laughs into his lips, kissing him soundly as he lifts her bridal style and heads towards the stairs.

And as he makes love to her over and over again for the next few days, she forgets about the B-list celebrities that kind of resemble Stephanie and Jesse, because she knows that Beca Mitchell-now-Swanson, was meant to be with Jesse Swanson like this, and nothing else matters.


	12. Anna Begins

"Women," Benji says as Jesse closes the door on their relationship, or whatever it was that they had.

He plops down on his bed, trying to focus on the movie on his laptop and the freshly made bowl of popcorn, but the only thing he can think about is the hurt on her face when she looked at him moments ago.

_My friend assures me, "It's all or nothing"  
I am not worried, I am not overly concerned  
My friend implores me, "For one time only  
Make an exception." I am not worried_

Beca doesn't understand, she thinks this is all about the fact that she was mean to him. She'd have to be blind to not know how he feels. He's made it painfully obvious, over and over again, and she's repeatedly pushed him away. He's at the point where he doesn't know what to think anymore. Does she even care about him at all?

_Wrap her up in a package of lies  
Send her off to a coconut island  
I am not worried  
I am not overly concerned_

His spring break passes in a haze. He hangs out with his family and friends, but he barely notices them. His thoughts keep shifting back to her, and how she at this very moment may be on a date with Luke. He wishes he could just forget about her, forget he ever met her, and forget he ever heard her sing.

_With the status of my emotions  
Oh, she says, "You're changing"  
But we're always changing  
It does not bother me to say_

He knows he's intense. He's been told before by his friends, his parents, and now her. He knows it's hard to deal with, but he's the one living each day with this kind of passion. He finds it exhausting, loving her. And she doesn't seem to want to talk about anything serious. He feels like he's about to go everywhere at once, and she's stuck in one spot, barely looking at him.

And so he puts his own walls up, because he's tired of hurting all the time, of giving his all and getting nothing in return.

_This isn't love  
'Cause if you don't wanna talk about it  
Then it isn't love  
And I guess, I'm gonna have to live with that_

"Well you better figure it out," he tells her, and he means it. He wants her to think about it, think about him, and decide if he means or ever meant anything to her. She goes from ignoring him, to becoming his friend, to almost kissing him, to punching out someone for him, to not speaking to him. He keeps telling himself he's not in love with her, that he can just walk away, but he's kidding himself.

_But I'm sure there's something in a shade of gray  
Or something in between  
And I can always change my name  
If that's what you mean_

Maybe if he were named Luke, she'd notice him, he thinks. Maybe he's too straight edged, too dorky for her. Maybe he's too much of a hopeless romantic. But in the movies, the guy always gets the girl, right?

_My friend assures me, "It's all or nothing"  
But I am not really worried  
I am not overly concerned_

Benji doesn't say so, but he knows Jesse is being stubborn. Benji has watched him gets his hopes up all year long, only to have them dashed again. Jesse knows his roommate cares about her too, he's the one who went after her that night. He couldn't even make himself wonder about how she had gotten home. He didn't want to think about her being with Luke instead of him.

_You try to tell yourself the things, you try tell yourself  
To make yourself forget, to make yourself forget  
I am not worried_

No, he's not in love with her. He's not going to think about how the intensity of her face when she's mixing songs captivates him. He's not going to imagine what it would be like to feel her body and her lips against his. He's not going to replay in his mind how her auburn hair shines in the sunlight, or her eyes sparkle at him when he makes a stupid joke. He's not going to think about how it felt when her eyes flitted between his eyes and his lips, and she leaned into him ever so slightly. No, that wasn't a moment between them; it was only his imagination playing tricks.

_"If it's love" she said  
Then we've gonna have to think about the consequences  
'Cause she can't stop shaking  
And I can't stop touching her_

They're sitting together on a park bench after the first ICCA finals. She's kissed him only an hour before, and he's still trying to process it. She's trembling, opening up to him is no small thing, and she's terrified. His hands move from his lap to intertwine with hers, and he doesn't let go. He absently moves a piece of her hair from her face, tucking it carefully behind her ear. His hands seem to have a mind of their own as they walk back to the hotel and he wraps an arm around her waist, keeping her hip pressed firmly against his.

_And this time when kindness falls like rain  
It washes her away  
And Anna begins to change her mind_

The days that follow are the happiest he's had in recent memory. The air is changing between them, he can feel it. She's smiling a lot more, and she leans into his touch instead of backing away. And when he kisses her, her lips melt into his.

_"These seconds when I'm shaking  
Leave me shuddering for days," she says  
And I'm not ready for this sort of thing_

They're sitting together on his bed watching a movie, and he can feel her eyes watching him. "You're missing it," he tells her softly before turning his gaze to meet hers. Her expression is unreadable as she tentatively leans towards him, lightly brushing her lips against his. She snakes a hand around his neck and into his hair as she deepens the kiss, sighing softly into his mouth. His heart is pounding in his chest as his hands move from her hair, down her back, and settle on her tiny waist, pulling her gently closer to him.

_But I'm not gonna break  
And I'm not gonna worry about it anymore  
I'm not gonna bend and I'm not gonna break  
I'm not gonna worry about it anymore  
No, no, no, no, no_

"Jesse," she breathes, and his heart soars. He slides into her effortlessly, filling her completely as her body relaxes against his. She feels exquisite. He doesn't have the words to describe this. He's reveling in the sensation of finally being inside her when he dares to open his eyes and look at her face. Her eyes are tightly closed, her head tilted back, her lips parted slightly as her breath comes out in halting gasps. She's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. His insides constrict with emotion as he lowers his lips to hers once more.

_It seems like I should say  
"As long as this is love"  
But it's not all that easy so maybe I should_

He's known for a while now that she was special to him, but it isn't until this moment that he realizes just how much.

"Jesse!" his name is on her lips as she hits her climax, and he's a goner. He can't even pretend anymore that he's not. Sure, he joked with her when they first met that they would end up like this, but it was still only something he dreamed about late at night when he was alone.

But here she is, with him, and it's his name gasped in pleasure. He looks at her, really looks at her as they try to regain their breaths, and when her eyes open and she catches him staring, she smiles. "Wow," she says, and he wishes he could stop time and stay like this forever.

_Snap her up in a butterfly net  
And pin her down on a photograph album  
I am not worried  
'Cause you've done this sort of thing before_

Part of him worries that she'll run, or that she'll never really be able to love him back the way that he loves her, but he can't stop falling for her. He's terrified as he realizes that as long as he lives, he doubts that there will ever be a moment as perfect as this again. It's so new to him, and already he knows he'll never love anyone else the way he loves her.

_But then I start to think about the consequences  
'Cause I don't get no sleep in a quiet room_

She's asleep next to him, curled onto her side as he lies awake in the darkness listening to the sound of her breathing. He isn't sure what this means for their relationship. He has no idea what future they might have together, if any. He knows she has issues with marriage, and children, and all of the things he imagined his future would include. And still, no matter how hard he tries to fight it, he is in love with her. He can't even pinpoint the exact moment when it started. But maybe, just maybe, she's the one his heart has been waiting for always.

_And this time when kindness falls like rain  
It washes me away  
And Anna begins to change my mind_

The fifth time they make love, yes love, his mind insists, they're in his dorm room late one night. Benji is studying in the library, and she arrives just to drop off one of his DVDs that he left behind in her room. She fully intends to just make a quick visit and go, but when he answers the door listening to his iPod instead of watching a movie, she's intrigued.

"What are you listening to?" she asks.

"You," he replies, showing her the screen, and sure enough, one of her mixes is playing.

Her smile takes his breath away as she replies, "Wow, I'm on someone's iPod."

He grins back, playing with a curl of her hair as she adds, "And more importantly, you chose me over one of your precious movies."

"Always," he whispers so softly she almost doesn't hear it, and then he's kissing her. His iPod and headphones fall to the floor forgotten as he tangles his tongue with hers. He turns them, backing her towards his bed until she feels the backs of her legs hit the mattress. His t-shirt quickly joins his iPod on the floor, and she's running her hands down his bare chest. He moans into her mouth, reaching to remove her shirt. She wraps her legs around his waist, and he lowers her to the bed, settling himself between her legs. She trembles under his intense gaze, and he knows she can feel it, this passion he has for her, because it's written in every move he makes.

_And every time she sneezes  
I believe it's love  
And oh, Lord, I'm not ready for this sort of thing_

They're on the quad one afternoon. He's trying to rest while she's mixing tracks on her laptop. She places the headphones on his head periodically to see what he thinks. His head is in her lap, and he looks up at her when she starts shifting back and forth on their blanket, wrinkling her nose.

"Ah-choo!" she squeaks. And suddenly he's rolling on his side, unable to hold back his laughter, because his badass Beca Mitchell squeaks when she sneezes, and he thinks it's the most adorable sound he's ever heard.

"Shut up, nerd," she says fondly, narrowing her eyes at him as she playfully punches him in the shoulder.

_She's talkin' in her sleep  
It's keepin' me awake  
And Anna begins to toss and turn_

He learns something new about her every day.

Beca Mitchell talks in her sleep. The first night he spends with her, they just sleep in his New York City hotel bed after the ICCA finals. She lets out a breathy moan, and he would give anything to know what she is dreaming about.

About a week and a half after that, he gets a hint. She's fast asleep beside him, the sheet wrapped around her topless form as she slumbers. He wakes suddenly, blinking in the darkness as he tries to determine what woke him.

"Mmm," she purrs into her pillow, shifting her hips as she rolls onto her back. His eyes shoot in her direction, staring intently at her.

"Ohh," she sighs, her hand falling across her body and landing on her now exposed breast. He swallows as he watches her.

"Yes," she hisses, and he hears her sharp intake of breath, and suddenly he is painfully aroused. She shifts again, her eyes shooting open just as suddenly as his had moments before.

"Damn it," she mumbles to herself, unaware that he is fully awake and focused on her in rapt attention.

"I really hope you were dreaming about me," he whispers, and she nearly falls out of the bed in surprise.

"God! Jesse!" she jumps, pulling the sheet tightly around herself as she sits up in bed.

"Sorry," he chuckles, "You were talking in your sleep, woke me up."

"Oh my God what did I say?" she covers her face with the bedding.

"You seemed to be enjoying yourself," he says quietly, "I was hoping you were dreaming about me."

She doesn't say anything for a moment, the embarrassment evident on her face as she peeks at him from under the covers. "I was," she admits, "But I woke just as it was starting to get good."

"You got the real thing right here, ya know," he teases her, and she tosses the sheet aside, straddling his hips.

"Well then you better finish what you started, _lover_," she smiles, before lowering her lips to his.

_And every word is nonsense  
But I understand  
And oh, Lord, I'm not ready for this sort of thing_

This is what heaven must be like, he thinks as she buries her face in his neck, kissing that one spot below his earlobe that she knows drives him wild. She's wrapped around him like a second skin, her bare chest rubbing ever so lightly against his as her hands move from his hair, down his sides, and pass gently over the thin material of his boxers. His breath hitches, and he can feel her smile into his neck.

"You're beautiful," he tells her, "I—"

She cuts him off by kissing him firmly on the mouth, and the incomplete sentiment hangs in the air.

_Her kindness bangs a gong  
It's movin' me along  
And Anna begins to fade away_

As his car turns the corner, he glances back into his rearview mirror until she's completely out of sight. He knows that leaving her was the right choice, but his heart feels differently. He knows that out of the millions of women he eventually could meet in New York, there's already only one who has captured his heart forever.

_It's chasin' me away  
She disappears  
And oh, Lord, I'm not ready for this sort of thing_

He never expected her to be the first one to say I love you. He has almost said it a hundred times since he met her, and was just waiting for a time when he thought she could handle it. So when she lets it slip one afternoon, he can't hide the elation he feels.

He didn't intend to go to Barden University and fall in love with the first girl he sees on campus, but it turns out to be the best thing he ever does in his life.

**A/N**: The song is Anna Begins by Counting Crows. It is too perfect for several reasons.

To all my Guest reviewers, I wish I could reply to you because you're amazing and have made me laugh and smile every day. THANK YOU!


	13. One Week

She's right, he's an idiot.

You would think after nearly two years together that he would have figured out how to stop pushing her too much, but obviously he hasn't. He was even too stupid to pick up on the many not-so-subtle ways she had warned him to back off before completely flipping out on him.

"Come on Beca," he urges, "It's her wedding day."

"And I didn't ask her to get married on the same weekend as the finals, did I?" she replies.

"No, but that's just a coincidence," he argues.

"No, it isn't. I told her what dates I would be competing, and she decided it wasn't important enough for her to change her schedule so that her only daughter could attend her wedding. I don't see how this is my fault!"

"She's your mother," he insists.

"I know that, Jesse!" she snaps, "I really wish you could just take my side and shut up about it already!"

"I am on your side, I just don't want you to regret not being there for your mother," he keeps pushing.

"And what about the Bellas? Oh, you'd just love that right? It would be an easier win for you without me there!"

"Beca, that's not what—"

She holds her hands up in front of his face, "Save it Jesse, I'm done." And without another word, she walks out the door.

She's ignored him before, but it is different this time. He knows she's busy rehearsing with the Bellas and with classes, but she changes her shifts at the station, and she doesn't reply to any of his calls or texts. She's not at their usual spot on the quad after class, either.

Five days after the argument, and he's walking across campus with the intention of catching her as she leaves class. He turns in the direction of the building where her class is held and stops dead in his tracks when he sees her. She's standing in a group of at least five guys, talking and laughing with them as if nothing in her world is wrong. She smiles a genuine smile at one of them, and his insides squeeze as he recalls that it took him months to earn a smile like that from her.

It's spring, and she's standing beneath a flowering tree as she talks to these guys. A few flower petals fall from the tree, catching in her hair. One of the guys reaches out and gently pulls the petals from her hair, and Jesse's hands curl into fists at his sides.

He's an idiot.

There's just something about her that attracts not only him, but everyone to her. She never sees it, saying she isn't that pretty or special, but he knows the truth. And this scene, with the flowers falling all around her, is more than he can bear. He should be the one standing there with her, not this other guy.

He watches as she turns away from the group and heads in the direction of her dorm alone. He sees the flower petal guy say something to his friends and then chase after her. She turns around as the guy approaches and says something to her, and replies by shaking her head before walking away again. The guy just stands there, hanging his head for a moment before returning to his friends, who laugh at him and punch him jokingly.

Wait, did that guy just ask her out?

Beca continues to walk away when the flower guy runs after her again while his friends goad him on. "Beca!" the guy calls her, "Bec!"

_Bec_?

The guy grabs Beca by the arm, turning her around abruptly, her books falling out of her arms and onto the sidewalk.

"Dude, what the hell?" he hears her yell as she removes her ear-buds and looks up angrily at the guy. By now, Jesse's feet are moving by his own accord towards them. The guy still has her by the arm.

"Come on Bec, it's just going to be the guys hanging out watching a movie, you have to come!" the guy insists.

"Get the hell off her!" Jesse yells as he approaches, causing Beca and the guy to turn in his direction. The guy releases Beca as Jesse stoops to retrieve her fallen books, scooping them up and holding them for her as he glares at the guy.

"Want to introduce me to your friend?" flower guy says to Beca.

"Boyfriend," Jesse corrects.

She just shakes her head at both of them, and turns to leave again.

"Bec?" they both say at the same time before shooting eye daggers again at each other. Jesse runs after her, giving the guy a warning look over his shoulder telling him not to follow.

"Beca!" Jesse says again, but she keeps walking faster. When they reach her room she moves to slam the door in his face, but he blocks it with his foot.

"Are you kidding me?" she glares at him

"What?" he retorts.

"Right, you just happened to be there when Chris was talking to me. So now what, are you going to tell me who I can be friends with too?" her nostrils flare with anger.

"Wait, you're mad at me when I save you from being manhandled by some asshole creep who also happened to be asking you out?" he shouts back.

"For your information, Chris is not an asshole. He was just being friendly because we're friends. I am allowed to have friends right?"

"Yes of course but—"

"But nothing!" she cuts him off.

"You're being really stubborn!"

"Don't," she holds up her hands, "Not every decision I make is based on some ridiculous notion that I have to be a certain way to prove something no matter who it hurts in the process. Do you really think that's who I am? Because if you do, then I have no idea why the hell you're even with me!"

"Beca, if this is about the wedding, then—"

"No!" she yells, "You don't get it, do you? My whole life has been about taking care of my mother, worrying about her, trying to make her happy after my dad left. And now I finally have my own life, and something that makes me happy, and a boyfriend and friends, and I'm just supposed to ditch them and screw them over so that I can go to some bullshit wedding that will probably end up in divorce because she couldn't be bothered to change the date for me? No. _Fuck_ that."

"Beca," he begins.

"Just go," she replies, not looking at him.

He stands there for a moment, just watching her as she looks out the window, her body rigid. He wants nothing more than to just go to her and hold her in his arms, but he knows she won't let him, so he leaves.

And the idiocy continues.

This all started because he wouldn't stop pushing her. He had to open his big mouth and tell her that she would regret missing the wedding, and he still is probably sure she will if she doesn't go. He considers calling Beca's mother to beg her to change the date, but he knows if he does, Beca will probably never speak to him again. So he does the only thing he can think of.

It's late at night a few days later, and she's sitting alone in her room at her computer, trying to focus on a new mix. She hates that she misses him, she's so angry at him. Why doesn't he understand that her decision was hard enough without him constantly questioning her about it? Of course she doesn't want to miss the wedding, but she won't abandon her friends when they need her the most. Abandoning is only something her father does.

She's staring at the screen when she hears the first few chords of a guitar playing outside. She stands, looking down onto the lawn, and there he is.

_The show is over close the story book  
There'll be no encore  
And all the random hands that I have shook  
Well they're reaching for the door  
I watch their backs as they leave single file  
But you stood stubborn, cheering all the while_

She recognizes the song as the same one that Mark Wahlberg's character plays for Jennifer Aniston's character in the movie Rock Star. One of the many, many movies she's watched as a result of her movication.

_I know I can be colorful  
I know I can be gray  
But I know this loser's living fortunate  
Cause I know, you will love me either way_

She smiles at him in spite of herself. His voice always manages to do something to her insides, making them turn to mush. She hates herself for it.

_Most were being good for goodness sake  
But you wouldn't pantomime  
You are more beautiful when you awake  
Than most are in a lifetime  
Through the haze that is my memory well  
You stayed for drama though you paid for a comedy and_

He knows that she loves when men sing to their significant others in movies. She let it slip when they were watching this movie, of course. She had sighed at the song, "So romantic," she whispered as Mark's character asked Jennifer's character for forgiveness and love through this sweet melody. She had felt his eyes on her as he smiled and turned his attention back to his laptop screen.  
_  
I know I can be colorful  
I know I can be gray  
But I know this loser's living fortunate  
Cause I know, you will love me either way_

He also knows that she finds guitar players sexy. And while Jesse has a basic understanding of all instruments, he wants to be a composer, after all; she knows that guitar isn't his strong suit. He must have learned this just for her.

_Look ahead as far as you can see it  
We'll live in drama but we'll die in a comedy and_

He's focusing intently on the guitar, only daring to glance up at her window for a few brief moments to see if she's watching. When he sees her there, he smiles. A few other students have taken notice of his big moment here too.

_I know I can be colorful_

He looks up again, and she isn't there. His heart sinks.

_I know I can be gray_

He just keeps going, he's gotten this far and he's going to finish the song even if she isn't going to listen to it.

_And I know this loser's living fortunate  
'Cause I know, you will love me  
Yes I know, you will love me  
I know, you will love me  
Either way_

He strums the last chord on the guitar and looks up to see her standing a few feet away from him

"You learned that for me?" she asks quietly, and he nods. "It was amazing, thank you."

"I miss you," he tells her.

"I miss you too," she replies. "But I need you to know, you can't keep trying to make my decisions for me. I don't want to live that way. I know I can be stubborn, but I need you to trust me when I say I've made up my mind about something."

"Ok," he says. "I'm so sorry, Bec. I just want you to be happy. You know that, right?"

She nods, "Do you honestly think I would be happy going to that wedding without you?"

He shakes his head, of course he wouldn't have been able to go, because then he'd also miss the competition for the Trebles. "I would hope not," he finally says, taking a tentative step towards her. He slings the guitar, still attached to its strap, behind his back, and he can't help the way she licks her lips when she looks at him.

"You're an idiot," she says softly.

"Yes, yes I am. Only an idiot would spend a week without you in his bed when he should've spent every moment of said week groveling at your feet until you forgave his sorry ass."

She laughs, "Don't grovel. Groveling is pathetic."

"Oh, so you've already moved on to Chris the hair flower petal removal guy?" he teases, taking another step closer to her.

"Of course, we've watched tons of _movies_ together already," she smirks.

"Oh, you're a bad, bad girl," he smiles smugly, moving until his face is only inches from hers. "Movie tramp," he adds.

"Weirdo."

"Badass."

"Idiot."

"_Lover_." And he kisses her soundly on the lips. He feels her relax into him, and he pulls her flush against his body. As the kiss grows in intensity with each passing second, he picks her up, and she yelps as her knee collides with the guitar still hanging down his back.

He puts her down and goes to remove the instrument from his shoulder. "Leave it," she says, raising her eyebrows suggestively at him before taking his hand and pulling him to her room.

She's the one to slowly draw the guitar strap off his shoulder and place the instrument gently on the floor before turning to look at him, her eyes smoldering. He decides it was worth the two days of practicing until his fingers were raw, his whole body humming in anticipation as she turns and climbs up on her bed, standing on the mattress. She points at him, turning her finger around and wagging it suggestively at him, asking him to come to her. He does, and she cradles his face in her hands before slowly lowering her lips to his. He's looking up at her, and she's in control as the kiss deepens. He snakes his hands around her, grabbing her hips from behind and pressing her pelvis into him as he breaks the kiss and attaches his lips to the creamy skin of her stomach. She stands there, slowly and deliberately removing each item of her clothing until there's nothing left, and he does the same.

Many I love you's and I'm sorry's are breathed into the darkness of the night as they move together, relieved to finally be one after their week apart. He knows it's not the last time he's going to be an idiot when it comes to her, but he knows he's lucky.

Because he knows she will love him either way.

**A/N:** The song is The Verve Pipe's Colorful.


	14. Your Body Is a Wonderland

When she first meets him, she has no idea that he could be this way. If she had, she wouldn't have waited all freshman year to kiss him.

She learns he's passionate because of the way he loves music and movies. He's one of the first people in her life that finally seems to understand her love for music, how it's the only thing that ever makes sense to her. People and emotions are confusing, but music she gets.

He learns that she's passionate too, about music, and about the people she cares about. And with this passion, they both have the tendency to overreact. Thankfully, not at the same time. He's not sure the world can handle that kind of fire just yet. When one of them starts to fly off the handle, the other is there to keep the balance in check.

That is, until the night of the semi-finals their sophomore year.

The Trebles are first to perform, and as she watches him from the side of the stage, it takes all of her self-control not to jump him while he's singing. He keeps shooting her smoldering gazes, knowing full well what his singing does to her.

The guys finish their set and move to take their seats in the audience. She unfastens one more button on her blouse before blowing on the pitch pipe, and the Bellas begin to sing. Their number is sexy, complete with very hot dance moves, and she works it as hard as she can on stage, her eyes never breaking contact with his the entire time.

She's always sexy to him, but he can barely control himself when she saunters past him to take her seat a few rows back.

The tension between them continues on the bus ride home. They now travel together on the Trebles bus, being that Beca and Jesse are the leaders. They try to play it cool, but they don't stop teasing each other during the long drive. She keeps bending down giving him a full view of her cleavage, and he keeps singing along softly to the music on the radio while giving her knowing glances. By the time they reach Barden, they're both so hard up they barely make it back to her dorm room before they practically attack each other.

_We got the afternoon  
You got this room for two  
One thing I've left to do  
Discover me, discoverin' you_

He pushes her against the wall roughly, his lips attaching to hers as their tongues tangle in a battle for dominance. His fingers nimbly work the buttons of her blouse, sliding it down her arms and tossing it on the floor behind her. His blazer is already off, his tie follows, and then she's working on his jeans. She reaches to unclasp her bra, but he grabs her by the wrist, stopping her. He leans his forehead against hers, trying to catch his breath.

"Let's slow this down a bit," he whispers huskily into her ear.

_One mile to every inch of  
Your skin like porcelain  
One pair of candy lips and  
Your bubblegum tongue_

They're both clad only in their underwear as he walks her over to the bed. He lies down, pulling her on top of him as he kisses her again, with the same amount of passion as before, only now he takes his time. He rolls them over, his body covering hers and she grinds her hips into his. He moves his hands, holding her still. "Shhh," he soothes, beginning to lightly kiss her neck.

_And if you want love  
Then make it  
Swim in a deep sea  
Of blankets  
Take all your big plans  
And break 'em  
This is bound to be a while_

Usually, she's the one in control. She's always been the dominant personality, and he's ok with that. Her take-charge, hold no prisoners attitude is one of the many things that attracted him to her in the first place, and he's a go-with-the-flow kind of guy. But not now, this afternoon he's in charge. He pins her to the mattress, holding her wrists with his hands. "Don't move," he breathes into her ear seductively, and she shudders in anticipation.

He takes his time, kissing every inch of her exposed skin, neglecting the places she wants him most which are still covered by her underwear. She's trying desperately to remain still, but she can't stop the reflexive twitch of her muscles under his lips. When he starts using his teeth to nip the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, she fists her hands in his hair and tugs, "Jesse," she moans.

He hooks his index fingers in the elastic of her panties and glides them down her legs, leaving her only in her bra. He bends to also remove his boxers before resuming his delicate assault on her senses.

_Your body is a wonderland  
Your body is a wonder, I'll use my hands  
Your body is a wonderland_

He settles his mouth between her legs and the only thought she has is that if there were to ever be a Church of Jesse Swanson, she's going to look back on now and recall that this is the moment when it began. She throws her head back into the pillows, a breathy moan falling from her lips.

Yes, it's official, Jesse Swanson is a God, and she'll be the sole member of that church.

_Something 'bout the way  
The hair falls in your face  
I love the shape you take  
When crawlin' towards the pillowcase_

He kisses his way back up her body, and she feels like even if she wanted to move, she couldn't.

_You tell me where to go and  
Though I might leave to find it  
I'll never let your head hit the bed  
Without my hand behind it_

His fingers and lips are skimming the soft skin around the edge of her bra, but he makes no motion to remove it. Her body is aching for him now, and she can feel how much he wants her. She fidgets beneath him, trying to show him what she wants.

_You want love? We'll make it  
Swim in a deep sea of blankets  
Take all your big plans and break 'em  
This is bound to be a while_

"Patience, my love," he whispers into her neck as he presses painfully light kisses at the base of her throat. And suddenly, she can't take it anymore.

_Your body is a wonderland  
Your body is a wonder, I'll use my hands  
Your body is a wonderland_

She grabs his face roughly, pulling his mouth to hers, and kisses him with all the pent up frustration of the past day poured into it. He tenses for a moment before fully giving into to her, their tongues tangling in the heat of the moment. She pushes him off her, rolling them on their sides before she kneels on the mattress and straddles his hips. She's pinning his wrists to the bed, and she knows if he wants he could easily move, but he's still, his eyes wide as he looks up at her.

_Damn baby, you frustrate me  
I know you're mine, all mine, all mine  
But you look so good, it hurts sometimes_

Never breaking eye contact with him, she slowly reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, letting it fall down her arms before removing and spiking it to the floor beside them.

"Much better," she says triumphantly, her eyes sparkling as she rotates her hips, eliciting a moan from him.

"God I love you," he breathes as she lowers herself onto him, and they move together in a dance that they have long since perfected.

_Your body is a wonderland  
Your body is a wonder, I'll use my hands  
Your body is a wonderland  
Your body is a wonderland, oh no_

And later, when they're lying there wrapped in each other, his face only inches from hers on the pillow, she laughs to herself when she thinks about the guys she was attracted to before she met Jesse. The aloof, tattooed Luke kind of guys that would've given her a one night stand and nothing more, the kind that wouldn't have taken the time to get to know the complex person she is, and the kind that wouldn't have been able to handle her passionate side.

She looks at her nerd, tucked into her bed, his eyes fluttering as he sleeps, and she smiles. She may not have been the one to notice him first, but she's so happy that he noticed her.

"I love you, weirdo," she whispers to him, and his mouth curves into a smile even in his sleep.

It's cheesy, and sappy, and so un-Beca-like, but she thinks for a moment that they must belong together, if only for the fact that they may be the only two people on the planet who can make the word "weirdo" a term of endearment.

When she first meets him, she has no idea that they could be this way together. If she had, she wouldn't have waited all freshman year to kiss him.

**A/N:** The song is Your Body Is a Wonderland by John Mayer. Although I love writing these, I will probably not be able to maintain this crazy fast updating pace much longer. I'll do my best to keep adding to the story, but my real life circumstances are about to change, making it more difficult for me to write. I'll explain in an upcoming chapter. I know this is a bit more sexy than usual, but the idea of Jesse and this song would not leave my brain.


	15. I Will Wait

A person's life is filled with defining moments; some of them sad, some of them happy, and all of them involving extremes. Memories are made from events that are significant in some way, whether good or bad.

Up until she met Jesse, the moment that had most defined her in her life was sitting on the front steps at the age of ten, waiting for her father to arrive home from work, only he never came.

She carried those feelings of hurt, mistrust, and anger with her wherever she went. They changed her, made her rough around the edges. And even though she had put up walls and pushed away everyone in her life before she met Jesse Swanson, he was the first to call her out on it.

She's had many defining moments in her life that brought to this one. Her first day at Barden, meeting Jesse, kissing him at the ICCA's, agreeing to marry him, and having Melody have all shaped her into who she is now. So when she turns to him and says, "Want to start on making aca-baby number two?" she knows there's no turning back.

She's anxious for weeks beforehand. Having a second child is a big decision, and they have gone back and forth about it since Melody was born. The first time it came up, she was in the middle of pushing Melody out of her body when one of the nurses said, "Hey, how many do you think you're gonna have?"

And she had replied mid-contraction, "At this moment, I don't even want this one!"

She didn't want Melody to be an only child. She was an only child and it was very lonely for her growing up, especially during and after her parents' divorce. She worried about affording another child, did they make enough money? Was she going to have the time and patience to have two little ones running around? Would she be able to love them fairly and be an equally good mother to both?

Jesse was from a bigger family and she knew he wanted at least two children. He tells her time and time again that he's ok with only having one, if she doesn't want to do the pregnancy and breastfeeding thing again he understands. It's an almost two year commitment on her part. They agree that the children should be at least 2 years apart in age, because they don't want there to be such a huge difference that they can't play together or share the same interests around the same time, and they don't want them to be so close in age that they're dealing with two infants. They also agree that they'd like another girl, since they already have all the girl clothing and accessories. Jesse isn't one of those macho men who need to have a son to pass on the family name or teach sports to, and he adores his little girl.

After she weans Melody she begins tracking her cycle carefully. She knows her fertile time is coming up, and she can't help but lie awake worrying over it. They were lucky with Melody, conceiving her on the first try, but Beca knows the reality of the situation, she has fertility issues and Melody was a miracle baby. She knows that even if they try, they may never have another child.

She loves how women are always saying that pregnancy is wonderful and how they don't remember it, but she recalls it with crystal clear perfect clarity. The hot flashes, hip pain, back pain, leg cramps, carpal-tunnel, unbearable gas pains, insomnia, water retention, fat _everything_, tent shaped clothing, weight gain, mood swings, nausea, frequent urination, constant worry, feels-like-an-eternity forty weeks. She hates maternity clothing. It took forever to lose the weight again and get back to her old size and she's thinking about doing this again? She must be insane.

Sure, nothing beats feeling the baby move for the first time inside her, and absolutely the best moment of her life was holding Melody for the first time. She tries to focus on how that felt, and the amazing love she has for her child, a love she didn't know she was capable of feeling before she laid eyes on her daughter.

It's been a difficult summer for her, being off from work on a forced sabbatical. The fallout of her hormones after weaning Melody, and just being bored shitless have bred a whole host of anxieties and obsessions within her, unearthing feelings she had buried since she found out she was pregnant for the first time almost two years ago. She's obsessing over that stupid celebrity couple, or whether her favorite television show will be renewed, or if the sequel to one of the movies Jesse made her watch will ever be made. Because the problem with being a passionate person is, you can't always control what you're passionate _about_.

Jesse has been working on finishing their basement into a playroom for Melody, which means many trips to various home improvement stores, lots of painting, contractors coming in and out of the house each day, making one day blend into the next. She tries to pour all of her emotions into something she's passionate about, music, but it isn't the effective therapy it used to be for her.

The house is a mess, the contents of the previous basement storage area and makeshift office strewn in the dining room, her life in boxes as the work on the house continues. She's pinned down by Melody's long afternoon naps that make going anywhere or doing anything very difficult, and she's feeling isolated. She hates that she almost wants to go back to work.

Yes, she's definitely insane.

His eyes widen as she asks him to make another baby with her. He's ecstatic, she can tell. And he's the reason she wants another. Jesse is the most amazing father to Melody. He's attentive, patient, and loving and she wants nothing more than to witness him falling in love with another child of theirs. She just hopes she can give him one. And mainly, she wants to stop worrying about it and everything else.

He's carried her up the stairs to their bedroom, and she's undressing carefully. She slides into bed next to him to find he's already ready for her, and he kisses her tenderly. Before he pushes into her, he looks into her eyes, "Are you sure?" he whispers, and she nods. He glides into her, both of them reveling in the exquisite sensation of being able to do this with no barriers between them.

For the next two nights, they make love, and he falls asleep quickly after each time, and she lies there still, staring up at their ceiling. She wishes she could see if something miraculous was happening inside of her, but she knows she's going to have to wait the two weeks before she can take a pregnancy test. Coincidentally, that will be right around the time that she goes back to work.

He's anxious too, and keeps asking her if she can sense any changes. With Melody, the first signs came with crazy temperature swings that would make her feel freezing and then extremely hot in the span of minutes. A few days later, she took the pregnancy test that revealed she was expecting.

So when he suggests that they go out to dinner to get their minds off things a few nights later, she's thrilled with the idea. They arrange a sitter for Melody, dress up in nice clothes, and head out to their favorite Italian bistro.

He notices that she's very quiet at dinner, allowing him to ramble on about some movie he saw on cable last night. "Bec?" he asks, "What is it?"

"Are you still going to love me when I get fat again, and lose my hair again, and my boobs deflate into near non-existence?" she asks.

He smiles, "Of course, how can you even ask me that?"

"I don't know. I guess I keep thinking about how I'm no longer the eighteen year old girl you fell in love with anymore," she says quietly.

"Beca," he takes her hand in his, "You're so much more to me now. You're my wife. You're the mother of my child, possibly _children_. And I know we're getting older, but we're doing this together."

"I love you," she tells him, smiling.

"Right back at ya, babe," he grins dorkily, and she laughs.

And now she just has to wait the two weeks.

**A/N:** This chapter was my way of explaining why I won't be updating as quickly, if at all. I'll do my best.


	16. Remember to Breathe

"Dude, it's just Beca," Benji says as he tries on his fifth shirt of the evening. "Haven't you guys been hanging out together like all year long already?"

"Yes, as friends," Jesse clarifies. "And now we're, uh, well, I don't know what we are."

"She kissed you, and you guys talked right? She was in your bed the other night, in New York. I don't see what's left to know," Benji replies.

Jesse sighs heavily, because nothing with Beca Mitchell has ever been easy up to this point. And he's nervous, really nervous, that maybe all of this was just a dream and he'll end up in the friend zone again. He really, really doesn't want to end up there again.

"Go with the blue one," Benji says, turning back to his laptop. "She loves blue."

"How do you know that?" Jesse inquires.

"It's her favorite color," Benji answers simply, and Jesse realizes there's still so much about her that he doesn't know.

"Really? I would have pegged her as more of a black or gray kind of girl," he jokes, and Benji just shakes his head.

"Nope, blue," Benji corrects, "She's always liked the fact that she has blue eyes, and her mom always told her that blue is the color she looks best wearing."

Jesse stares at his roommate, shocked, "And how is it that you know all of this about her and I don't?"

"Because I'm not the one she wants," Benji replies simply. "Remember, she asked _you_ to go out with her tonight, not the other way around."

Across campus, Beca is having similar anxiety about their date even though she's the one that asked him to go out with her tonight. Kimmy Jin just rolls her eyes and shakes her head as Beca puts on the seventh outfit. Ugh, she is not this girl that frets over makeup, hair, and accessories, so she opts for a light blue scoop neck top, a denim skirt, and heeled boots. She leaves her hair down in loose curls, and applies her makeup as usual, lightening it just a bit.

_It's just Jesse_, she tells herself as she hears a soft knock on her door.

"Hey," he says softly as she opens the door to find him standing there wearing a shirt a slightly darker shade of blue than hers, and dark wash jeans. He looks great, as always. He gives her a quick once over before grinning at her, "You ready?" he asks.

She nods, and they walk out the door. They make the short walk over to the main road just off campus that has shops and restaurants and a small park by a manmade lake. It's warm outside, and they decide to sit outside at one of the cafes there.

After the waitress takes their order, she glances around them, unsure of what to say.

"You're unusually quiet tonight," she opts for, "No 'fun' facts for me about movies I haven't yet seen and don't plan to?"

He smiles, "Oh, you're seeing them," he retorts.

"All of them?" she asks in mock-horror.

"Yep," he says, "I mean your lack of understanding of pop-culture references, inability to quote the best movies of all time, and general disdain for all things fun is really becoming a problem."

She rolls her eyes, "I guess you're just going to have to deal with it," she tells him.

_Oh_, this implies she wants something possibly long term. His mind goes into overdrive.

"Don't overthink it, weirdo," she quips, as if she reads his mind. They talk about his classes, the Trebles, and Aubrey's latest tirade. The conversation flows easily, and she begins to relax a little. This is Jesse, her best friend. So what if they are changing into something more than that in this very moment?

He smiles, watching her intently as she talks about how Chloe has no personal space boundaries, and loves the way her face lights up when she discusses music or her mother. He's spent countless moments like this with her, their banter bouncing off one another in quick, rapid succession. To the outsider, it seems like half a conversation, since they complete each other's thoughts without verbalizing it, and make references and jokes that only they would understand. When the check comes he snatches it away before she can react.

"Jesse," she frowns, "Let's split it."

"Absolutely not," he grins, the smile reaching his eyes, "This is a date, and the man is supposed to pay."

"This is not ancient times, I am perfectly capable of paying," she tells him.

"I know that," he answers, "But I want to. Now repeat after me, _thank you Jesse_."

"Thank you Jesse," she manages, rolling her eyes at him, but she's smiling.

After dinner they start walking among the shops and hoards of college students hanging out on the main drive. They end up near the lake, which is more secluded, just as the stars come out for the night. His hands are stuffed awkwardly in his pockets, and hers are gesturing wildly as she imitates how Fat Amy mocked Cynthia Rose's latest choreography, and they're laughing together when his fingers brush against her hand. She stops mid-sentence, looking down at their joined hands for a split second before continuing on her tirade. Their hands swing casually between them as their steps fall in sync with each other, and they can feel the electricity flowing as skin touches skin.

"Jessica is upset because her boyfriend cheated on her, so we've been singing 'hate the world girl crybaby music' lately in rehearsals. Although technically he slept with the other girl while they were taking a break, so I don't know if it really counts as cheating," she's explaining.

"You mean they were on a break?" he asks before imitating Ross from Friends, "We were on a break!"

"Ugh, television show romances," she retorts.

"What, not a fan of the Ross and Rachel saga that went on for ten years? I'm a much bigger fan of movies where the couple gets together after an hour and a half, three tops."

"That's why movies are predictable," she replies.

"What, and TV shows aren't? Like you couldn't tell from the first episode where Ross is falling all over himself for Rachel that they weren't going to end up together in the end?"

"It wasn't set in stone," she answers. "I mean they had a kid together and were on again, off again forever. It kept the viewers interested."

"It drove me crazy. It got to the point where I didn't even care if they did end up together," he argues.

"You, Jesse Swanson, hopeless romantic, did not care about an on screen romance? I'm shocked. Befuddled. Stupefied," she teases him.

"I mean, it's like how long does it take for you to realize you love someone? You either do or you don't. For me there're no shades of gray. You just know right away," he declares. He stops to look at her for a long moment, and she pauses.

"Maybe I just like the excitement, the drama, the anticipation," she replies, her voice soft, "It always keeps you wanting more." And with that, she stands on her tiptoes and pulls his head down for a long, soft kiss, and he swears for a moment he forgets how to breathe.

He wraps his arms around her, deepening the kiss as her hands fist in his shirt. They stand there together in the moonlight, his mouth trained on hers for a long while. When they finally break apart, he's breathless, and she can barely stand up anymore.

"See, it would be stupid to wait ten years for us to do that again," he grins, and she laughs.

"Agreed," she replies, her voice coming out more breathy than she intended, and he raises an eyebrow at her before taking her hand and continuing their walk.

He walks her back to her dorm room when it starts to get late. As they reach her door he leans in for a goodnight kiss to her lips.

"Goodnight weirdo," he tells her as he turns to leave. He makes it about ten feet away when he feels her tiny hands grab his arm and turn him around. She pulls his head down roughly, meeting her lips in a searing, hard kiss that leaves him standing there dumbfounded, hair tousled, and lips swollen.

"See you in ten years, nerd," she says, laughing as she runs back to her room and closes the door.

He doesn't even wait ten seconds before pulling out his phone to text her.

_You're such a tease._

And he laughs when her reply comes.

_Just keeping you wanting more._

He grins when he types out his reply.

_Believe me, you don't need to try. At all._

And her answer arrives seconds later.

_Goodnight weirdo. Had a great time tonight. See you tomorrow._

He looks at his watch and it's just after midnight. They have a shift together at the radio station tomorrow at ten o'clock.

Ten years would be asinine, but he thinks he can manage ten hours without her, as long as he can remember to breathe.

**A/N:** The title is from Dashboard Confessional's Remember to Breathe.


	17. Royals

They're standing at the checkout counter when it starts. She glances over to the rack of magazines and points to someone famous declaring, "It is not fair for someone to be that talented and beautiful!"

"Are you being serious?" he asks.

"Yes. I mean_ look_ at her," she points at the magazine. It's bad enough that she's rich and famous, but this, no this is just unfair."

"You're beautiful Bec," he tells her, "And besides, these are professional photo shoots with makeup, and airbrushing, and carefully choreographed lighting, wardrobe, and sets. It isn't real life."

"You cannot stand there and tell me I'm beautiful like Jennifer Aniston or Angelina Jolie. I mean seriously. They're gorgeous. I'm just average," she shakes her head.

"Beca," he says, loading up their food on the belt, "Nothing about you is or will ever be considered average."

"You have to say that, because you're my husband. And we're in that lovey-dovey newlywed phase of our marriage."

"Nothing about you is or will ever be considered lovey-dovey either," he jokes, and she punches him lightly in the arm. "Besides, it's a hell of a lot easier to look like that when you've got tons of money and can pay people to make you look gorgeous. Not everyone is naturally beautiful like you, Bec."

"Ha," she scoffs as she pulls out her credit card to pay for the food.

"Hey wait, doesn't Lilly do photography as a hobby? And can't Chloe do hair, makeup, and things like that?" he wonders aloud.

"Yes, what is your point?" she asks.

"I'm just saying, I think we could totally set up a glamour photo shoot for you. I bet you could look better than any of these women," he says.

"Yeah right. Wager?" she counters.

"If I win, you have to watch the entirety of the Godfather trilogy, and stay awake," he replies.

"And if I win, you have to drop movication for a month," she tells him, "And someone else has to judge. You'll be biased. How about Benji and Aubrey?"

"Ok, Benji and Aubrey will vote on who is hotter, you or Angelina Jolie, ok?" he grins at her, he knows he's already won.

Chloe is thrilled with the idea of dolling Beca up, and Lilly agrees to take the pictures. Jesse wants to be around for the photo shoot, but they all insist that he be surprised with the final product. "I don't want you to see them if they're horrible," Beca tells him.

"Don't worry," Fat Amy says to him, "I'll photo stream some of them to you while she's not paying attention," she winks.

And so on the big day, Jesse disappears for the afternoon to hang out with Benji, and the girls stay at the house. They start by dressing her only in black lingerie, handing her a robe, and proceeding to do her hair and makeup. They tone down her usual dark eye shadow, giving her only black eyeliner and a slight smoky eye look. They remove all of her earrings. They apply rosy pink lip gloss, and put on foundation to smooth out her already flawless skin. They flat iron her hair and tease it up, applying lots of hairspray to give it volume. When they're finished, they hand her a black blazer and tell her to put it on instead of her robe. On her feet are leopard print high heeled ankle boots with laces.

"Outside," Lilly orders, holding the camera.

"Dude, no," Beca replies, "Where are my pants?"

"You don't need any," Chloe tells her, "Why cover up those legs?"

"Now go lean up against the house," Lilly says, pointing to a painted white brick wall.

Chloe opens the front of the blazer, showing off Beca's cleavage and flat stomach nicely.

"Now give us a smoldering look!" Fat Amy yells from behind. "Come on, run your fingers through your hair! Imagine we're Jesse and you want us, bad!"

Beca laughs, and then does her best to give the camera a sexy look. She doesn't notice that Fat Amy is also snapping pictures with her cellphone.

Jesse's phone buzzes in his pocket just as he and Benji are getting into the car to head to their next destination. He sees that it's a photo from Amy and opens it, and as the image loads, his jaw drops.

"Holy shit," he tells his friend, and then turns the car in the direction of home.

Aubrey arrives just as they are making Beca change outfits. They give her more conservative black lingerie, and swap out the black blazer for a white cotton short sleeved sweater that reaches the tops of her thighs. They're making her pose with it wrapped around her in different ways when Jesse pulls up in the driveway.

"She can't know I'm here," he tells Benji, "Or she'll stop. And I don't want her to stop. Like, ever." But honestly, he's dying to see the live show.

His phone buzzes again with a new photo of her, and he can't take it anymore, he practically runs to the backyard. He rounds the corner of the house just as she's striking another pose, leaning up against the house with one leg propped up. His mouth goes dry.

"Holy shit," Benji echoes his earlier words, "That's your wife."

"That's my wife," Jesse repeats, unable to take his eyes off her.

"If you weren't my best friend, I'd really hate you right now, man," Benji whispers, and Jesse smiles. He's so going to win this bet.

"Ok, that's a wrap!" Lilly yells, and Jesse takes this moment to reveal that he is standing there. He runs over to his wife and her friends.

"Beca," he breathes when he reaches her, "You look amazing, stunning, there are no words."

"Thank you," she and Chloe say at the same time.

"When can I see the pictures?" he asks Lilly. They all go back into the house and Lilly hooks up her camera to the flat screen TV.

"Oh no! Just what I want to see, myself in high definition," Beca scowls. "Can I at least put on clothes?"

"I like you this way," Jesse whispers huskily into her ear before pulling her down on his lap in front of the TV.

Aubrey opens a shopping bag containing a variety of magazines with different celebrity women on the covers. "Ok, so we're comparing Beca to these," she says to Benji. "And then we'll decide who wins the bet."

Beca covers her eyes as the first of the photos begin appearing on the screen. Jesse grabs her hands and pulls them down, forcing her to look. "You're so sexy," he whispers low in her ear, so that only she can hear him.

Her friends are whistling as the images continue. And they're good, they're really good.

"You look hot, Beca," Benji tells her, a slight blush on his cheeks as Jesse elbows him in the side. Aubrey takes the whole thing very seriously, looking between the screen and the magazines spread out in front of her.

"Maybe we should make a few prints," Aubrey suggests, "So that we can really get an idea of what Beca would look like as a cover girl."

The girls and Benji go upstairs to the office to use the photo printer, leaving Jesse and Beca alone in the living room.

"I win," he says into her neck as he begins placing soft kisses on her exposed skin, and there is a lot of it.

She sighs, relaxing a bit into his touch, "Jesse, our friends are upstairs. They're coming back, you know."

"Yes, and as soon as they leave, I'm not letting go of you for the rest of the day," he tells her.

"Make an eight by ten of the best one for my office!" he yells up the stairs, and Beca elbows him.

"Dude, no!" her eyes shoot open wide, "You cannot have a picture of me like this anywhere, anytime."

"How about my cell phone background? My computer wallpaper?" he grins.

"No, and no!"

"How about if I have a t-shirt made with you on it?"

"No!"

"A mug? A motivational poster for the office lounge?"

"Jesse!"

"A billboard advertising your radio show?"

She kisses him then to shut him up, only pulling away when she hears their friends' footsteps descending the stairs.

They lay out the prints next to the magazines, and both Benji and Aubrey declare that Beca looks better than all of the other women. "You know what it is?" Chloe says, "She's just a natural beauty. Not obvious like Angelina or Jennifer, but more subtle. She manages to look cute and sexy at the same time. It's sickening really."

Beca blushes, and Jesse pecks her cheek with his lips. "The Godfather trilogy it is," he says triumphantly, and she groans.

Their friends leave not long after, and she heads upstairs to put on something more comfortable. "Not so fast there, Mrs. Swanson," Jesse calls to her from behind.

"If we're going to spend a million hours watching your movies, at least let me wear what I want," she tells him.

"Oh, we are not watching movies right now," he says, wrapping his arms around her from behind, "But I will definitely help you out of this and into something more comfy," and with that, he scoops her up and tosses her onto their bed before climbing in and hovering over her.

"My wife," he declares possessively, before kissing her breathless. And later, when their bodies are intertwined in the sheets, she loves him a little more for always thinking she's beautiful, and he loves her more for not realizing just how gorgeous she really is.

They may never be rich or famous, but they make each other feel like royals.

**A/N:** This chapter is named after the song Royals by Lorde. I'm also referring to the GQ pictures of Anna Kendrick, because they couldn't be ignored.


	18. Sweater Weather

He has no idea how they ended up here with sand in places he didn't even know he had.

The Saturday had begun just like any other since they'd moved to Los Angeles five months ago. The day was overcast and cool, and he slept in while she bustled around the apartment, straightening up and cleaning.

"Benji and his new girlfriend are coming for a visit tomorrow," she says, throwing a pillow at his head, "It would be nice if you'd get up and help me."

"Benji won't care if the place is a mess," he groans into the mattress.

"Maybe he won't, but I will," she tells him as she makes plenty of noise opening and closing the dresser drawers and closet door. "I don't want his girlfriend to think we live in squalor."

He groans again before climbing out of bed and padding down the hallway wearing only his boxers. By the time he eats his breakfast, scans the cable channels for any good movies, and slowly drinks his cup of coffee, it's almost noon. She's scowling at him from behind as he stands up from the sofa, mug in hand. He walks into the kitchen that she's just cleaned and places it on the counter by the sink before turning to leave.

"What, opening the dishwasher and placing the mug in is too much of a strain for you?" she snaps.

He looks at her blankly, "Well I never know if the dishwasher is clean or dirty, so I figure it's safer there."

"That's the worst excuse I ever heard in my life!" she retorts, "Have you ever heard of opening it and looking at the plates to see if they're dirty?"

He just shakes his head and walks out of the room. "You know, I'm really tired, so if we could just get on with our day here, that would be great," he grumbles.

"Oh, I'm so sorry that my trying to make our home clean and organized is inconvenient for you in any way," she says sarcastically.

"Beca," he begins.

"You know I didn't mind at first, because I knew you worked more hours than me, so I figured I'd pitch in here a little more. But I didn't expect you to do nothing, Jesse. Do you know how much work it takes to run a household for us?"

"I never asked you to do any of it!" he exclaims.

"Well, good! Because I'm done," and she grabs her car keys and slams the front door on her way out. He's annoyed, and he stomps down the hallway to take a hot shower, but it does nothing to calm his temper. He stands at the sink, noticing his toothbrush and shaving items lined neatly in a row on top of the shining vanity.

He walks out to the kitchen, fresh from his shower, and searches the refrigerator for something to eat for lunch. The fridge is well stocked with fresh foods and produce, and he makes himself a sandwich before plopping back on the sofa. He gets caught up in the plot of a movie he's never seen before, and when he looks back at the clock he realizes it has been nearly four hours since Beca left.

He looks around their tiny apartment. It isn't much, but she keeps it clean and neat, and there's almost always food waiting for him when he gets home from work, whether she cooked or it's takeout. And his clothes for work are always clean and ready to go. And he never runs out of shampoo or deodorant or anything, for that matter.

He's a jerk.

Where did she go? He searches his brain for a place she might have gone in her anger. And then it dawns on him to look in the last place she thinks he'd want to be. He grabs a sweater and his car keys and heads out the door.

The drive to the beach is a little longer than usual due to horrible L.A. traffic, but around dusk he arrives at the spot they came to when they first moved here and he admitted to her that he hates the beach.

"You hate the beach?" she asked incredulously, giving him the same expression he'd given her when she told him she didn't like movies all those years ago.

"I'd like it if it weren't for the sand," he had replied. "It's gritty, and dirty, and uncomfortable."

"You're so high maintenance," she joked.

He smiles when he spots her car parked alone in the lot, and pulls up beside it. He finds her sitting alone on the sand facing the waves, her legs folded into her chest as she huddles against the cool air. He walks across the sand towards her.

"How did you know I'd be here?" she asks without turning around.

"I decided to look in the last place you thought I'd want to be," he replies, his voice barely audible above the sound of the ocean.

She glances over her shoulder at him, "Well, looks like you were right."

"No, I'm not right, I'm an asshole," he answers, sitting beside her in the sand.

"You know why I do all of those things for you?" she asks him. "Because I'm not good with words or feelings, and I guess it's my way of letting you know I care. But lately, I feel more like your mother than your girlfriend."

"Ugh, please never compare yourself to my mother again," he mutters, grimacing.

"Your mother is lovely, and you know it," she tells him, a hint of a smile playing at her lips.

"Yes, she's lovely as a woman who is completely and totally separate in my mind from my very hot, very sexy, very gorgeous girlfriend. They don't mix, ok?" he replies. "I'm sorry, Bec," he adds, "I've been taking you for granted. I got used to you taking care of me, and it isn't fair. I'm the one who should be taking care of you."

"You do," she answers softly. "You love me. You have never stopped loving me even when I didn't deserve it."

"Ditto," he says, reaching for her hand. "God Beca! Your hands are freezing!"

He pulls her hands into the sleeves of his sweater, warming them against his. Suddenly she stands up, whisking off her top and heading in the direction of the water wearing her bra and a pair of shorts.

"Beca, what the hell are you doing?" he yells after her.

She turns, yelling back over her shoulder, "Come on weirdo!"

He pulls off his sweater and shirt, tossing them into the sand, and heads after her wearing only his boxers. She's wading knee deep into the water, the waves crashing into her in the increasing darkness.

When he reaches her, she takes his hand, pulling him further into the water until they are waist deep, and she runs her hands over his chest before pulling his face down to hers for a kiss. He picks her up, and she wraps her legs around his hips. They kiss passionately as the waves nearly knock him off balance a few times, and he can feel the effect she's having on his body.

"Beca," he moans into her lips, but she doesn't break contact with him.

"Beca," he repeats, "I'm so sorry," he murmurs into her neck as he kisses her, "I love you."

"I love you more," she answers, pushing her tongue forcefully back into his mouth, and he decides he can't take it anymore. He carries them out of the water until they're on the flat plane of sand that has been beaten down by the waves hitting it repeatedly and lays her down before falliing in between her legs. His hands are disposing of her shorts and underwear and hers are tugging expectantly at his boxers. They make love right then and there, with the waves lapping at their toes, in public for anyone to see.

It's hot, and eager, and passionate, and he doesn't care that he has sand in his hair and matted between his toes; all he feels is the heat of her body pressed into his.

Neither of them notices how cold they are until their breathing returns to normal and they're lying in the sand facing the stars, and she starts to shiver uncontrollably.

"Bec, you're freezing," he tells her, standing and scooping her up, carrying her back to their dry, discarded clothing. They dress quickly, and he pulls his sweater over her head to keep her warm. "Come on, let's go home," he says taking her hand.

And it's him that cleans the trail of sand they leave through the apartment leading to their bedroom where he tackles her again.

Ok, so maybe he doesn't really hate the beach after all.

**A/N:** Based off the song Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood. I'm noticing that I'm not getting as many reviews as before. I'm writing each chapter in an hour, so if they're not as good I apologize. I don't have as much time as I used to!


	19. Total Eclipse of the Heart

After she kissed him for the first time, he was flustered for what seemed like forever. At first, he attributes it to the fact that he's been chasing this girl all school year long, and she had finally reciprocated his feelings in a grand gesture worthy of one of his movies. Plus, they were in the midst of the thrill of competition, and he was certain that she was going to win the championship.

He's watching her from across the auditorium when he spies her father and a blonde woman approach the object of his affections. He observes how Beca stiffens, crossing her arms protectively, keeping herself at arm's length. Dr. Mitchell tries to kiss her on the cheek, but it's awkward and unnatural. Jesse cringes from his standpoint, knowing that her relationship with her father is difficult, and that she's hurting. He wonders how someone could be so careless with Beca's unconditional love. He vows silently to himself that if he's ever lucky enough to earn her love, he'll do anything in his power to cherish it always.

And for ten years so far, he keeps his vow.

Of course, there are many bumps along the way, and he isn't perfect, but he always gives her his best, and he knows she does the same for him. Her pain is something she carries with her always, and he wishes he could take it away, but scars on the heart often leave their mark.

Slowly, she repairs her relationship with her father, but it isn't perfect. Sometimes, he'll do or say something, or something will strike a chord in her, and he knows she's hurting. She tries not to talk about it, but he knows.

Melody is around fifteen months old when she tells him she's expecting their second child in an elaborate flash mob grand gesture that has him falling in love with her all over again. It's very early on, and she's just starting to feel the nausea and fatigue that goes along with being pregnant, when they decide to tell their parents the news.

They video chat with his parents, and they're thrilled. His mother admits that she assumed they would only have one child, and he knows it's because he once shared with her that he feared Beca would never want to be a mother. They hang up with the elder Swansons feeling happy.

Beca's mother and step-father are also overjoyed, and her mom even agrees to fly in and help when Beca's due date approaches. This seems to calm Beca, and he wraps his arm loosely around her shoulders as they dial her father's number.

As Dr. Mitchell and Sheila appear on the screen, they make small talk at first until Beca delivers the news.

"I hope you'll be free in early May to come out for a visit," she tells them.

"Well, uh," Dr. Mitchell says, glancing at Sheila, "We'll have to check the calendar but I don't think we have anything planned. What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I just thought you might like to meet your new grandchild then," Beca replies quietly, not looking at the screen.

Silence.

And then more silence.

Jesse waits, studying his in-laws' faces. "Dad?" Beca says tentatively, "Did you hear what I said?"

"Yeah, Bec," her Dad says, rubbing his temples, "I'm just shocked is all. I didn't expect this."

Sheila's mouth is hanging open as she stares into space. "Sheila?" Beca questions.

"Oh honey," Sheila manages, "This is great news. How much younger than Melody will the new baby be?"

"Almost two years," Beca replies.

"Wow," Sheila shakes her head, "That's going to be…challenging."

"Yes it is," Jesse interjects, "But we decided to try again before Melody's completely out of the baby phase, so it isn't like completely starting over again."

"We didn't know we'd get pregnant so quickly, if at all," Beca explains, "This was the minimum age apart we wanted them to be."

Jesse glances at her as if you say _you don't need to justify this to them_, but Beca continues, "We wanted them to be close enough in age to be able to play together. And I'm not getting any younger here."

"It's great, Bec," her father says, attempting a smile. They end the call soon after, and Beca slams the laptop shut before turning and walking away.

He knows after years of being with her that now is not the time to talk about this. She's going to need to think about it for a bit first.

The next week passes in a blur. They are both working full time and Melody has just started daycare, her care up until now given by a hired nanny. This brings a lot of tears from both parents and child, Melody's first cold, and sheer exhaustion on everyone. It's almost a week later when he finally gets a chance to sit down and talk to her alone. He's just put Melody to bed, and he walks down to the kitchen to find Beca sitting at the table, staring off into space.

"Bec?" he says quietly, not wanting to startle her.

"I thought he'd be happy," she whispers, her voice barely audible.

"He is," Jesse insists.

"No, he isn't," she replies, "He's not a very good actor. Did you see his face? It's another grandchild for God's sake, not an atomic bomb!"

"He's just worried about you," he says calmly, "Your first pregnancy wasn't the easiest."

"Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I'm afraid of what this means? You know, if it weren't for the constant nausea and having to pee every five seconds, it almost seems like I'm not actually pregnant. And then I remember I'm almost 3 weeks late for my period."

He opens his mouth to say something, but she takes a breath and continues.

"Is it too much to ask for him to be happy? Just once? To be happy without terms and conditions? To be proud without questions? To just be a father who loves his daughter?"

"He does love you," Jesse replies.

"No, he doesn't," she snaps, "Not like you love Melody. Not like you love me."

He takes a step towards her, but she has her arms crossed again, a posture he knows all too well.

"Sometimes I watch you with Melody, and my heart breaks a little," she says, her eyes filling with tears. "And it's not in a way that I'm sad, it's because you're just so wonderful. And I'm so happy my children have you for a father. It's just that sometimes, I wish my father were better, the way you are with Melody."

He's at a loss for words. Sometimes he really wants to punch Dr. Mitchell. And even though he knows the professor loves his daughter, he could have done better by her.

"I just love you so, so much," she adds.

"I love you more," he replies, echoing the words she normally says to him.

He kisses her lightly on the lips before moving past her to get himself a glass of water. She stands, walking to the refrigerator to take out the contents of Melody's lunch to pack for tomorrow. They work together in silence, readying themselves for the coming day. He can tell she still isn't ok by the way she emphatically places each item on the counter, sighing heavily with each move she makes. He reaches for her hand, giving it a small squeeze as he looks into her eyes.

He's reminded of the first time they went shopping together after they started dating, and he had reached for her hand just like this as they walked among the stores. She had glanced down at their joined hands in genuine surprise, as if she couldn't believe he'd do something like this, or maybe because it felt so natural. He felt the electricity flowing between them, and he knew he never wanted to let go.

And in ten years, he hasn't.

"Turn around," he murmurs into the shell of her ear.

"I really need you tonight," she whispers, and he tugs her closer to him. He sweeps the hair off her shoulders, pressing light kisses to her neck before landing his lips on hers. He kisses her softly, this kiss building in intensity with each passing second.

Even now, as he makes love to her, they both feel the sparks between them, and they both feel so lucky to have spent the last ten years together. He hopes that night that this passion, this love they share never fades.

And in all the years they are together, it doesn't.

**A/N: ** So sorry for the delay! I am insanely busy and feeling exhausted/nauseous right now, but I will continue to update when I can. Reviews are love!


	20. Glitter in the Air

_Have you ever fed a lover with just your hands?_

"Don't say lover," she reminds him as he closes his eyes and opens his mouth. When nothing happens, he opens his eyes and looks at her expectantly.

"Told you you couldn't do it," he grins smugly, and with that, she shoves a big piece of cake into his mouth, smashing frosting all over his face in the process.

They're both laughing as he grabs a napkin from the table and attempts to clean his face. "Very funny," he rolls his eyes at her, "Now it's your turn."

"No way," she replies.

_Closed your eyes and trusted, just trusted?_

"Come on!" he exclaims, "I trusted you enough to do it!"

"And look how well that turned out for you," she teases, pointing to his sticky chin.

"Beca," he warns, and she reluctantly shuts her eyes and parts her lips.

He takes a small piece of cake and places it gently on her tongue, and she smiles, opening her eyes to look at him just as he smears a dollop of icing on her bottom lip. Before she can protest, his mouth is on hers, his tongue expertly licking the icing from her lips.

_Have you ever thrown a fistful of glitter in the air?_

"Glitter is from the devil," he grumbles as he tries to rid his hands of the sparkly stuff. "It sticks to you and never washes off, and it ends up everywhere!"

"I agree, it's horrible," she says, wiping her hands on her jeans, "But Aubrey's insisting we have to wear something shiny tonight, and I settled for this," she points down to her shirt which is black with a silver start outlined in glitter. "I didn't realize it would wipe off on you."

"I guess it's my fault for trying to pry it off of you," he winks.

"With your teeth," she adds, smacking him playfully on the arm.

He flops on his bed, exasperated. "Seriously, now my bed is covered in this crap."

She climbs on top of him, the peak of the star reaching between her breasts as she leans over him. "Sorry," she whispers breathily in his ear before kissing him hard.

Their first April Fools' Day together, she attacks him with a fistful of glitter, and the stuff is in his hair for days afterwards. He retaliates by shaking his head over her naked body, and then she's covered in it too. She has to take many showers to remove all traces of it, but when he joins her, she decides it was totally worth it.

_Have you ever looked fear in the face and said I just don't care?_

She considers herself to be a brave person. But it's when she's confronted with the idea of losing him, for the first time in a long time, she allows herself to feel fear. When Aubrey finally allows her creative reign of the Bellas, she knows what she has to do. It's hard, not just running to him during the weeks of practice before the finals, but she knows she needs to wait. He hasn't forgiven her from her apology alone, and she knows him well enough to realize that in order to win him back she's going to need to do more. She needs to prove to him that he matters to her, she's been listening to him all this time, and that he's amazing.

So she sings to him.

When he nods his consent, and raises his fist in the air, a wide smile spreads across her face because she knows she's forgiven. The Bellas finish their number, and when she exits the stage and kisses him, she's aware that this is only the beginning.

_It's only half past the point of no return_

_The tip of the iceberg, the sun before the burn_

_The thunder before the lightning, and the breath before the phrase_

_Have you ever felt this way?_

While he knows soon after they meet that he's in love with her, it takes her a little longer to admit her feelings for him to herself. During the time when they don't speak, she watches his movies, and she knows she cares about him, but it isn't until he switches from just a friend to something more that it turns into anything resembling love. She wakes one night and looks over at him in the darkness, his arm slung over her abdomen as he lies on his side, his breathing even, and she just knows. It takes her another two weeks to tell him.

_Have you ever hated yourself for staring at the phone?_

They're fighting, and she's said some horrible, hateful things. She didn't mean a word of it, was just lashing out at him because he was there, and now he isn't anymore. She's left countless messages on his voicemail, and even went by his dorm room a few times, but so far she's had no contact with him in three days.

She checks her phone every few minutes, making sure not to miss a call or a text, but nothing comes her way. She sends him another text that says simply, _I love you, I miss you._

_Your whole life waiting on a ring to prove you're not alone?_

He looks at his phone as it buzzes, and sees her message. He knows she loves him, and he knows she didn't mean what she said, but that doesn't stop it from hurting. Beca has always been a challenge, and it's one of the many reasons he fell in love with her. He knows he's forgiven her, he knows he always will.

He picks up the phone to dial her number, and he can hear the relief in her voice when she answers.

And years later, after waiting for ages for a different kind of ring, they finally slide each other's wedding bands on their ring fingers, sealing them together forever.

_Have you been touched so gently you had to cry?_

It is the first night of their sophomore year together, and they're lying in her bed, the moonlight casting shadows across her dorm room. They had missed each other desperately over the summer, and after so many months apart, their love making had been heated and frantic, the pent up love and lust overflowing with need for release. They're on their backs, the sheet loosely covering their naked forms as they stare up at the ceiling, trying to regain their breaths. His fingertips are lightly skimming her forearm.

They both roll on their sides so that they're facing each other, and he smiles at her.

"I missed you, Bec," he says in the darkness, grazing the backs of his fingers along her jawline, and her breath hitches in her throat. Her heart swells with love for him as she scoots closer to him, pressing her body against his as she closes the distance between their mouths. When she pulls away there are tears in her eyes.

"Beca?" he questions, the concern evident in his voice as he tilts her chin up, forcing her to look at him. "What is it? Did I hurt you? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, you're perfect," she manages, taking a deep breath. "It's just…I love you."

He smiles, relieved. "I love you too," he replies simply.

_Have you ever invited a stranger to come inside?_

His openness rolls off him in waves, but she's a closed book. And although they work together and discuss everything from music, to movies, and to their classes, they don't really know each other. Originally, Jesse falls for the mystery that is her, and she falls for his kindness, his resolve to know her. But for all intents and purposes, they are strangers to one another.

His invitation comes in the form of relentless flirting. He's telling her that he wants more, and she knows it. His message is loud and clear.

Hers comes in the form of a song. It's on stage in front of throngs of people and all their friends, and yet it's far more subtle. Only they know the meaning of that song in the course of their relationship. It's telling him she's ready to let him inside her world.

When she looks back at it years later when their children are grown and they're enjoying a comfortable life together, she knows that the most defining moment in her life was when he raised his fist in the air in acknowledgement, and she answered him right back.

_It's only half past the point of oblivion_

_The hourglass on the table, the walk before the run_

_The breath before the kiss, and the fear before the flames_

_Have you ever felt this way?_

She recognizes the fear in her heart soon after she meets him and understands instantly that he is unlike any guy she's ever known in her life. No one in her life before him has ever bothered to fight for her, and she knows she makes it hard on purpose, a test almost, and he passes every one.

His family teases him when she meets them finally, asking him how he managed to win her heart, but she knows she's actually the lucky one. Girls are drawn to Jesse, and it isn't just because of his amazing voice and adorably dorky dance moves, but it's also because of who he is. He's charming, and handsome, and genuinely kind. There's passion in everything he does, and she's so fortunate to be on the receiving end of it.

It's how she feels as she's walking down the aisle towards him on the day of their wedding, terrified yet overjoyed, and so in love.

_There you are, sitting in the garden, clutching my coffee_

_Calling me sugar, you called me sugar_

They're on their honeymoon, and the resort has a lovely garden that overlooks the beach. They can walk there from the private entrance to their room, and when Jesse is not in bed one morning when she wakes, it doesn't take her long to find him.

She quickly slips into shorts and a tank top and walks across the grass to him. He's sitting on a bench, sipping his coffee. And as she approaches he hands a mug to her.

"Hey sugar, did you sleep well?" he says casually, a bright smile on his face, and it's dorky, and cheesy, and perfect, and him.

_Have you ever wished for an endless night?_

There were a few times in their relationship when they knew they were going to be apart for a while. The summers in between semesters at college, and the winter and spring breaks when they each went their separate ways. But nothing is quite like their last night at Barden, when she's heading to Los Angeles the next morning and he's heading to New York City.

They make love more than once, and lay wrapped in each other's arms. In typical Jesse fashion he serenades her with Maroon 5's Daylight, and she fights sleep because she doesn't want the next day to arrive. She wishes this night would never end, and that she could keep him forever.

_Lassoed the moon and the stars and pulled that rope tight?_

When he comes back to her, she again wishes the night would never end. She spends most of it just looking at him in the moonlight, and frets over how close she came to losing him.

They have other nights where they wish time would freeze. She loves the nights where they cuddle up in bed together and just talk. He loves the time she spends curled into his side, fast asleep as they watch a movie. They both enjoy every moment they spend as a family with their children.

_Have you ever held your breath and asked yourself will it ever get better than tonight?_

She wonders that after they first make love, only to realize soon after that it just keeps getting better.

The night of their wedding is also amazing and one for the record books. She vows to always remember the way he looks at her that night, a mixture of pride, love, and adoration etched across his handsome face. And as he holds his new wife tightly to his side that night, he can't believe that everything they've gone through so far has led them to this.

The day that Melody is born, she wakes to find him talking to the newborn in the dark hospital room, and again she wants to freeze frame on this moment.

And when Aria is born, he finds Beca singing and dancing with the baby in the middle of the night, and he quickly gets up to join them.

_Tonight._

Yes, there are a million little moments in their lives that might seem insignificant, but in the grand scheme of things they make them who they are. From Beca Mitchell and Jesse Swanson, to Mr. and Mrs. Jesse Swanson, to Mommy and Daddy, and to Grandma and Grandpa, what's most important in it all is that they found love.

**A/N:** The song is Glitter in the Air by Pink.


	21. Hurricane

His eyes flicker between her eyes and her lips, and for a split second she considers just letting him kiss her. It isn't that she doesn't feel an attraction to him. It's that what she feels for him is overwhelming, and so she turns away.

Years later, when she's older and wiser, it will seem foolish to her that in that moment she didn't kiss him. They could have had more time together. They wouldn't have had to hurt each other. She wouldn't have gone out with Luke, and he wouldn't have shut a well-deserved door in her face.

Her friends of course took her side, saying that he wasn't good enough for her, that he had brought her only angst and pain so far since she had met him. But she was intensely private, and only shared what she couldn't hide from them. When you're eighteen, you don't exactly run into a lot of other people who know what it's like to instantly connect with someone, to know from the first moment that you meet that something is special about this relationship, this guy. If she had kept a journal like a typical girl, she would've written something innately cheesy like "I'm going to marry this guy," because honestly, that's what it felt like. But that wasn't Beca Mitchell's style. She was the funny girl, the sarcastic girl, the badass. She wasn't supposed to fall in love so easily, especially not with this movie nerd.

The reality of it is that he's the one who's too good for her. She's damaged, brought up by two people who fell out of love with each other, who never communicated, and who didn't teach her how to feel. Music becomes her only outlet. She understands the melodies, the lyrics, the bass lines. She can hear two notes of a song and identify it instantly. She can hear a song a few times and sing it all the way through. Music is how she learns to feel, and she attaches songs to every important memory in her life.

She knows Jesse understands this. He might be the only other person who does. And that's why she sings to him as an apology, to say he means everything to her, to tell him everything she's been so afraid to admit to herself, even. And later, when she finally tells him with words, she realizes that they really have become best friends and lovers. Still, they are as different as they are the same. She could sit in a completely dark room with nothing but her music for hours and be completely content. He could watch movies for days on end, movies he's seen a dozen times before, and be completely enraptured by them. He easily communicates his feelings, where she struggles, often trying to show him with actions rather than words.

When they fight, it can be explosive. When you put two exceptionally passionate people together, things are bound to get out of hand at times. They yell at each other, they scream and slam doors. They overreact usually. He's upset because she isn't affectionate enough. She wants him to get his head out of the clouds for a moment and help her with real life problems that he finds insignificant. He tells her to stop blaming her "lady troubles" on her unpredictable moods and often sour demeanor. She pushes him to do more, be more, because she thinks he's too talented not to try. He's more content to just sit at home with her and watch his movies. She always wants more.

She watches her friends get married, and sees how the woman generally controls the emotional aspect of the relationship, and the man doesn't communicate, but if anything in her relationship with Jesse these roles are reversed. It's as if other married couples she knows don't talk to each other, which always baffles her because they live in the same house and share the same bed. Chloe will be telling her a story about something important that happened at work, and her husband Tom will act as if he's never heard it before. Everyone around them seems so out of sync, and as time passes she realizes just how special what she has with Jesse is.

They're at a party with their college friends. It's been eleven years since they graduated Barden, and already some of them are divorced, and some are still single. She and Jesse have been married for over seven years, and have two children. They've been best friends for almost fifteen years on top of that. She loves how they can look across the room at each other, and with that one glance, they can speak volumes to each other. She loves how after the party she knows they'll discuss everything that happened in detail on their way home. She loves that every time she picks up her phone to text him, a message pops up from him in that instant. Their relationship plays out like a well-tuned piano, its intricate melodies in perfect harmony with the notes.

Of course, it isn't perfect all the time. Beca spends a great deal of time in her head, caught up in a new mix, tangling with her emotions, still sorting out how her family and the people around her make her feel. And even though she's light years better at it than when they first met, she still needs work.

One night after the kids have gone to bed, they're sitting in the living room together. He's watching a movie on cable, and she's fiddling around on her cell phone, disinterested as usual by the plot.

He makes a comment about the film, and when she doesn't respond he turns to look at her. "Beca?" he inquires, "What are you doing?"

"Just surfing the web," she replies.

"You weren't listening to me," he points out. "I thought you were going to watch this with me."

"I couldn't follow along," she says, "You always start movies in the middle that I haven't seen before and I don't know what's going on."

"I started this one from the beginning," he says, sighing, "You just don't pay attention."

"I was busy doing the dishes and getting the kids' lunches ready for tomorrow," she replies.

"You never pay attention," he adds.

She glances at the screen, where some alien character is using a very fake looking laser to blow off someone's head. "You want me to pay attention to this stupid movie?" she asks incredulously.

"You think all movies are stupid, but they're important to me. It's my job to score them, Beca. You know how passionate about them I am," he's trying to keep his tone even, and failing.

"Right, because you always pay attention to everything that is important to me," she replies sarcastically.

"What don't I pay attention to?" he demands.

"You just sat here and let me clean up dinner. Why is it that we both work full time and yet I end up doing all the cooking, cleaning, and domestic shit around here?" she spats back.

"Maybe it's because all I want to do after a long day's work is come home and not be nagged to death by my wife! Maybe I just want to sit on the couch and watch a movie with her!" he shouts.

"Don't wake up the kids, Jesse," she says, more calmly, "I want to relax too! But we're full time working parents, and maybe you need to get it through your head that that isn't in the cards for us right now."

"Whatever," he mumbles, waving her off and turning back to his precious movie.

She doesn't say anything, just goes quietly up the stairs and into their bedroom. She puts in her iPod headphones and lets the music calm her down as she gets ready for bed. When she awakes to her alarm the following morning, she isn't surprised to see his side of the bed empty. He often falls asleep on the couch watching something on television. She starts getting ready for work, and he eventually comes upstairs and joins her, but they don't speak to each other. She leaves for work while he drops the girls off at daycare, and for the first time in a long while, there's no communication between them for the entire day, not even a text message. After work, she picks up the girls and brings them home to start dinner. When Jesse arrives home, the couple keeps their interactions normal and cheerful in front of the children. As Beca switches off Melody's light and makes her trek down the stairs, she's surprised not to hear the normal sounds of the television on in the background.

Jesse is sitting in the dimly lit room, and he looks up at her as she enters. "You know, sometimes I just want to spend time with my wife," he says.

"I'm here," she replies, "I'm always here."

"You're here, but you're always doing something. And it's like since we had the kids, you don't know how to relax anymore. And I need that, Beca, I really do. I can't always be running around, doing things," he explains.

"I don't have much time to get things done, and they _need_ doing. I can't just let the laundry pile up, or not food shop, or not clean, Jesse," she says adamantly, "And if you want me to relax more, you could help more."

"I do help," he says, "I'm always doing things with the girls. All I'm asking is for a few hours a week for just us. I miss you, Beca."

Her expression softens, "I'm right here," she whispers.

He holds out his hands, and she steps into his embrace. "I don't want you to think I don't appreciate all that you do for me, for our family," he tells her, "Because I do. But sometimes I just want us to be us, you know?"

She looks into his eyes, dark brown meeting silver blue, "We _are_ us. We've always been us since the moment you sang to me from the back of your parents' car."

He smiles, leaning down to kiss her softly. "I love you, Beca Swanson."

"I love you too, Jesse Swanson," she replies, pushing him backwards so that he falls onto the sofa. She straddles his lap, her hands threading into his hair as she kisses him again with passion.

"You see," she breathes into his mouth, "I'd much rather spend my free time doing this than watching some lame-assed movie."

He laughs, moving his lips to her neck. "Ok, you're right," he moans as she grinds her hips onto his.

"Can I have that in writing?" she teases.

He flips her so that she's lying on her back as he hovers over her. "Don't get too cocky," he warns, before capturing her lips once more. "Your movication is ongoing, and don't you forget it," he adds.

"Why did I ever agree to marry you?" she says with a sigh, "It was like signing myself up for a lifetime of being bored by movies."

He stops in his ministrations to look at her, "You know you love it."

"I know I love you. I always have." she corrects, pulling his mouth back to hers.

And she always will.

**A/N: The title is from MS MR's Hurricane.**


End file.
